#at least i have slightly different ways the story leads up to these events | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missmatchablossom · 3 months

Text

Gojo x Reader Royalty AU

summary: you are a princess in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of the country, satoru gojo. when you finally come of age and move into his palace, the two of you are forced to spend time together as the future queen and king of the nation. the future king definitely seems to have a thing for you though.

a.n: the intro is a bit long but gives some context to the story! feel free to skip right to the dialogue. also, this was totally inspired by the kdrama "Princess Hours" or "Goong" if anyone remembers that lol

Part I.

Intro

It’s been officially two months since you became officially engaged to Satoru Gojo, the nation's crown prince. Two months since you uprooted your entire life to live in his palace of gold and glamour, spending your days slaved to lessons about your royal duties.

It was your grandfather's wish; he was the one who promised the hand of his granddaughter to the future crown prince of the nation, solidifying your position as queen before you were even born.

That’s how you ended up betrothed to Prince Suguru, the crown prince of the nation. At least he was, up until he abdicated one year ago. It wasn’t clear what happened, only that it was a sudden decision that still left the country reeling. By law, his younger brother Prince Satoru inherited his spot, and by proxy the right to marry you.

Once you officially became of age, you moved to live at Gojo’s palace with him. You had both been so busy the past two months that there was barely a second to talk, but tonight would be different. Tonight was your first public event as a couple.

Evening had just fallen, and the palace was buzzing with preparations for a charity ball being hosted. Major politicians and other royal figures would be in attendance, and it was the first social event where you and Gojo were expected to greet everyone as a couple.

The hours you spent getting ready flew by, and before you knew it you were being led to the entrance of the ballroom, where Gojo was waiting for you.

The clicking of your heels alerted him to your proximity, prompting him to swiftly turn around to gaze at you. He was a dream, dressed in a navy suit with gold accents. The crown atop his head was a sophisticated array of cerulean jewels, the perfect match to his eyes. It was so swift you almost didn’t catch it - the way his eyes widened, the way his jaw slacked ever so slightly. But you blinked and the vestiges of his surprise were gone, replaced by the disarming smile he had around you. Around everyone.

“You look lovely princess,” he commented easily, lifting your gloved hand to his lips.

It was a casual greeting - you knew that. But it was hard to reason with your heart beating wildly in your ears.

“Thank you. You are dashing tonight your highness,” you complimented back, gathering the satin around your legs to give him a curtsy.

He nodded his thanks, carefully placing your hand in the crook of his elbow as you both turned to the double doors leading to the ball. It was time for your grand entrance as the crown prince and princess, future king and queen of the country.

You couldn’t help but think of the ruthless stares of all the guests this evening, judging every step you take, every breath you breathe. Your fingers turned to ice as your nerves began to rise, body becoming rigid as you prepared to steel yourself.

“I’m with you.” Gojo said, lips touching the shell of your ear. His warmth drove away your nerves, causing your body to buzz with his nearness.

You turned to flash him a grateful smile, which he returned with a squeeze against your fingers.

The ball went off without a hitch, following your grand entrance. You were almost immediately pulled in several directions following Gojo’s lead, smiling gracefully at each new person you were introduced to.

Almost everyone fawned over the two of you, sweetening your ears with flattery. But every compliment was backhanded, sprinkled in to soothe over their real sentiments.

“My, you look amazing together! It’s too bad about Prince Suguru, he was so outstanding.”

“His Highness Suguru was a fine prince, it must be hard to be cast in his shadow, you poor thing.”

“It must be hard to suddenly have all the roles of the crown. Please do reach out if you need my support, I imagine you’ll need it. But do not worry, I pledge my loyalties to the two of you.”

Each comment burned at your throat, even if they weren’t directed at you. You would’ve said something, but Gojo handled himself better than you would’ve in this situation.

The confidence with which he spoke, the proud set of his shoulders, the ease with which he fielded all questions, it was as if being crown prince was his birthright. It was like each jab at him lit a fire in his eyes, and he somehow made each person leave the conversation feel stupid for questioning him.

People attempted to belittle you as well, but you quieted them with the same ease as Gojo, which earned you a smile and side-eyed glance from the prince the first time he saw you do it.

The ball ended, and thankfully the amount of nobles approaching you quickly diminished once they learned they couldn’t shake you two.

When you bade your last farewell, you both seemed to exhale deeply at the same time, turning to look at each other. He still somehow looked like he just got ready, despite hours passing since the ball began. His silver hair remained set perfectly, not a strand out of place. The shine in his cerulean eyes did seem a bit dimmer, though.

He stared at you with the same intensity, then placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, catching you off guard with how little space there was between you two.

“See something you like princess?” he said. His lips were curved, his voice silken in the late hours of the night. How this man had the energy to flirt with you after the night you had was beyond you.

Normally, you’d shrink away from a comment like that. But you felt a rush of confidence after standing your ground against all the nobility at the ball today. So you mirrored his position, leaning up and tilting your head so you were only a foot away from his face.

“I do, actually,” you said, grinning as you caught the widening of his eyes. He blinked a few times, as though he struggled to compose himself.

“Are they always like that?” you asked, feeling brave. He raised a brow, and you elaborated.

“Belittling you, always bringing up Prince Suguru,” you said.

He hummed, looking away for a second.

“Yes. They’ve always vocalized their preference for him. They do it now to get a rise from me, to see me ruffled.”

“Why?” you asked. His eyes slid back to you, and you couldn’t look away from the intensity in them.

“Suguru was trusting - easier for them to manipulate. But they were never able to control me. They’re afraid of me.” he said, smirking like the thought pleased him so. He stared down at you, studying for your reaction.

“Should I be afraid of you?” you asked curiously, tilting your head at him. He reached a hand towards the side of your face, twirling a loose strand of hair around his finger.

“After I saw you handle them in there, I’m starting to think I should be afraid of you,” he said, tucking the strand behind your ear, eliciting a shiver out of you. The smirk never left his face.

You felt the blush creep up your cheeks as you answered.

“I’m glad you’re aware,” you said, the smile evident in your voice.

The sudden chiming of the grandfather clock caused you to jolt in place, and you swear you heard Gojo stifle a laugh.

“It’s midnight,” he stated, and you noticed him reaching a hand up to his temple, his knuckles making small circles against his skin.

You yawned, finally realizing how tired your body was after your long day.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he offered, and you nodded, trailing after him.

You smiled to yourself as you watched his posture immediately change now that you were alone. He slouched his shoulders and crossed his arms behind his head, almost leaning back as he took languid steps beside you. His legs were so long that it would’ve taken ages to catch up with him if he wasn’t walking so slowly.

You reached up to yank the tiara out of your hair, shaking it free of the tight updo that was pulling at your scalp. His eyes studied you curiously as you noticed him kneading his temple once more.

“Headache?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah, my eyes are sensitive to light. The bright lights inside the ballroom give me headaches,” he replied.

You mulled over the words you were about to say, thinking it was probably too forward of you.

“I know a remedy for headaches. Wanna try?” you asked anyways, heart thumping in your ears.

He looked at you curiously, an easy smile on his lips and he nodded.

“Alright, I’ll need somewhere you can lay down,” you said quietly, hoping the evening hid the blush on your cheeks. He raised his brows, chuckling a bit.

“I have a couch inside my study. It’s a few doors down,” he said, nodding towards another door.

You reached it quickly, following him into a sizable room. He flickered on a couple of lights, encasing the room in a soft glow. A black desk stretched across one side of the room, right in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that covered the entire wall. A large sectional was positioned in front of his desk, the black leather complimenting the other black and navy accents of the room. His rich sandalwood scent was filling your senses, intoxicating you with him.

He closed the door with a soft click, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone behind closed doors with the devastatingly handsome Prince Gojo.

He smiled slowly, making no move to approach you first as he stood by the door.

“How do you want me?” he drawled, causing your eyes to widen a bit.

For the headache remedy. He was talking about the headache remedy, nothing else.

You pressed your lips together, turning to seat yourself at the end of his sofa. Smiling shyly at him, you patted the tops of your thighs.

“You’ll have to place your head in my lap, if you’re okay with that,” you said.

You could’ve sworn you caught his eyes widening ever so slightly, but he recovered quickly and gave you a small smile.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and he settled himself next to you on the couch and leaned down towards your lap. You wanted to laugh at how truly long he was, his lithe body filling up almost all of the sofa, but you were too distracted.

Distracted by how his silvery hair felt like silk against your thighs. Distracted by the smell of sandalwood filling your space with his close proximity. Overwhelmed by how ethereal he was up close, like the most acclaimed artists would spend their whole lifetimes trying to create someone as lovely as him.

“Like this?” he said, and you noticed his thumb rubbing over his pulse point again.

You bit back your smile and nodded.

“Close your eyes, please,” you asked, and he complied. You sucked in a breath as you admired how long and full his lashes were. It was so unfair, actually.

You gingerly reached your fingers towards each side of his temple, drawing gentle circles.

He let out a sigh as he leaned into your touch, his features relaxing.

“Feels good?” you asked, chuckling to yourself.

“Mhm,” he said, not even bothering to open his eyes or use his words.

You sat in comfortable silence, massaging his temples and willing his headache to go away.

“I know it hasn’t been long since we’ve been engaged, but you can talk to me, you know. About the Sugru stuff, or anything else that might bother you. I’ll listen,” you said quietly.

His eyes opened slowly, and you stopped your ministrations, letting your hands pause besides his face. He reached a hand up to grasp one of yours.

“Are you upset that your engagement to him broke off?” he asked evenly, not revealing his feelings toward the matter.

“No,” you answered truthfully. Gojo’s slight exhale almost made you smile.

“I didn’t interact with him much, to be honest. I can’t say I really knew him,” you continued.

“I want to know you though,” you added shyly, and his cerulean eyes flicked to yours. He smiled brilliantly, and you realized it was the first time you truly saw him smile.

“I’ll tell you anything,” he replied, gently guiding your hands to move back to his temple in a wordless command. You were more than happy to obey.

“Okay. Favorite dessert?” you asked, your fingers at his temple again.

“Kikufuku. But I’ll eat anything sweet. You?” he replied, his eyes still closed.

“Anything matcha. But I also love strawberries and nutella,” you said, pleased as he hummed his approval.

“Favorite color?” he asked.

“Hmm, navy and sage green. You?”

“I like all shades of blue. And black, and white,” he said, and you laughed, eyes scanning that exact color palette in this room.

“I can tell,” you said, and he opened his eyes to smile boyishly at you.

The two of you continued to go back and forth, time escaping you as you discovered new things about each other.

You mused over the new information you had about your fiance. He likes cats, romance movies, and plants - especially ones with pretty flowers. His favorite food is udon, and he can’t stand peas. He has an enormous family, but he’s only close with a younger cousin named Megumi. He looked especially happy to be talking about messing with him, and you hoped to meet him soon.

“Do you ever feel scared about becoming king?” you dared to ask, feeling the tiniest bit closer to him after playing 20 questions.

He looked thoughtful for a while, and you ceased your massage on his temple.

“I know I have what it takes to be the greatest King this country has seen in a long time. And I have every intention to become just that, for my people and for me,” he said solemnly, spoken with the confidence and pride of a true royal.

“It’s rare, but I do feel scared sometimes. I never thought I’d have to do this alone,” he admitted after a while, his brows furrowing slightly as he appeared lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” you pressed gently.

“Suguru was supposed to be King, I knew that. We had the same vision to grow up and make our kingdom the most powerful, to rule together. But he changed suddenly, like a switch snapped and he was a different person,” he said, throat bobbing as he spoke.

“He’s not well. We haven’t spoke since he gave up the throne,” he almost whispered. You blinked a few times as you stared at him, Prince Gojo. A capable future king, but a younger brother at the same time, who was grieving over his brother.

You wordlessly slipped your hand into his hand, and he tensed for a second before relaxing and wrapping his fingers around yours.

“I’m with you,” you said, using the same words he gave you earlier.

Loaded silence filled the room. You worried you might’ve scared him off, might’ve forced him to talk about things he wasn’t ready to address yet because a few beats too many passed without him saying anything.

“You’re not alone, my prince. I know it wasn’t your choice, but I’m here to share your burdens. Hear your truths. I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, meaning every word.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice heavy with emotion he wasn’t ready to share yet. But you smiled as he squeezed your hand.

“Mhm,” you responded, beginning to thread your right hand through his pearl locks.

His eyes shot closed once again as he let out a soft groan, leaning his head back to chase your touch.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that there won’t be any words out of me for a while,” he said, and you laughed.

“You’re just like a cat,” you noted, the smile evident in your voice. You lightly scraped your fingernails against his scalp, finally seeing all the tension dissolve in his face.

“I would be happy to be a cat if I got to sit in your lap and get petted all day,” he drawled and you blushed at the deeper tone he adopted.

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped yourself as you noted the sated, sleepy smile on his face. The big, bad Prince Gojo was relaxed for once, and he looked painfully handsome.

Shaking your head to yourself, you continued silently stroking your hands through his hair, watching as his breaths slowed and became even. His lips parted slightly as his body relaxed with sleep, the side of his cheek turning to lay against your thigh.

You smiled to yourself, not ceasing your touch until you fell asleep yourself.

#gojo x reader #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #arranged marriage #forced proximity #female reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you

313 notes · View notes

themultifanshipper · 18 days

Text

Weed and sex... in a car. With 3 time Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen. What could possibly go wrong?

It's a long one boys (can it even be called a blurb if it's over 1.5k ?)

Perhaps getting high before an event wasn't the best idea after all. Max had decided to celebrate your birthday with a joint (or two or three) before going to dinner with Christian, Gerri and a boatload of sponsors and higher ups. Anyone with half a brain could have told you this could only end in disaster but when you and Max were together you were a couple of menaces. That's why Max's press officer hated that you were always around at the races and usually his plus one at events. She had a hell of a time covering up the "incidents" and "behaviours unbecoming of a formula one world champion"... ha! Yeah right. Between public indecency and and drunken shenanigans usually leading to property damage, it was a miracle the two of you had never been arrested to be honest.

Well except that one time after his first Monaco win but that's a story for another time.

Whatever, what else are rich people in their twenties supposed to do with their best friends in their free time anyway?

So there you were, in the passenger seat of Max's loaned company car, both high on expensive weed (or so Max said, the bloody cheapskate). The drive was pretty long and you got a rather intense case of the munchies about 20 minutes in so Max decided to stop for gas while you went into the gas station and bought snacks for the road. When you turned your head away from the cashier and saw max, your mouth went dry (and this time not from the weed).

See, this was in the middle of a heatwave (thanks climate change!) and max was wearing a suit. He decided that the best way to cool down was to unbutton his shirt and let his chest get some air. Unfortunately this, plus his sweaty dishevelled hair and the joint he still had in his mouth while he pumped gas, conjured up quite a few lewd images in your mind. You had never seen him look quite this debauched (again, except in Monaco but again, that's for another time). The sight was positively sinful. Or at least it seemed hot as fuck to you but you were high so who knows, either way his appearancewas getting you hot and bothered, so you decided to take a picture to remember the moment.

The cashier had to clear her throat loudly to get your attention, and by the time you had payed and left max had already got back in the car. When you climbed in you checked your reflection in the mirrors. Dilated pupils, check. Redness around the eyes, check. There was no way Christian wouldn't notice, and he definitely would not be happy.

Max's hand suddenly on your thigh brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, he looked just as fucked up as you felt.

"There's no way we can go to dinner like this right?" He was panting slightly and looked like he was fighting to stay alive.

"I don't think so, you wanna call Christian and cancel?"

"Nooo he's gonna kill me" He pouted as he took his hand off you to roll down the window to let some air in.

Weirdly you found that you missed its comforting presence on your thigh. And the image of it going higher suddenly entered your mind. That thought made you panick a bit, seeing as you had never had those kind of thoughts about Max. (Well, does it bear repeating? Monaco. Yeah).

Still panting, with his head out of the window like a dog, he groaned. "I don't think I can drive like this. Are you having a weird reaction to the weed?"

"Um... a bit, I guess. I'm hot and uh..." you trailed off and max looked at you

"And what?"

"No it's embarrassing"

"No tell me! What is it"

You looked at him for a moment, the two of you breathing harder than normal, both fighting something.

"Well..." you gulped "I guess I'm like, horny? But, I always get horny when I smoke, this is like... more intense? Different sensations I guess."

Max exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the headrest.

"Me too" he whispered in an oddly strained way. Then his eyes suddenly snapped open "Wait a minute! Are you telling me you've been horny every time we've gotten high together?!"

Shit.

"Uhhh, yeah?"

You noticed Max was squirming in his seat a little bit.

"Fuck, that's- why didn't you tell me?"

You stared at him. Was this really how the conversation was going to go?

" I- don't know I guess... I thought you wouldn't be interested?"

"Are you serious? I wouldn't be interested?! Even after MONACO?!"

"We're best friends Max, I don't wanna lose that. And we've never actually talked about Monaco so I assumed you wanted to forget it!"

"Forg- Forget it?! It's been three years and I haven't stopped thinking about it!"

"Oh"

"Yeah, oh!"

"Fuck"

"Only if you want to"

"What?"

He looked at you, eyes scanning your face, gaze dropping to your lips.

"We're both high and horny in a car right now, do you want to fuck me?"

You were taken aback slighly, Max was nothing if not straightforward, it was one of the things you loved about him.

"Max, I've wanted to fuck you since we were-"

Thats all he needed to hear before grabbing your hair and yanking your upper body towards him. Given both of your states it was more licking at each others mouths than actual kissing but this had been a long time coming you supposed and you were both too high to care.

You broke away and climbed between the seats into the backseat, winking at him as he gawked at your ass, barely covered by your pathetic excuse for a dress. "You joining me then, or leaving me to take care of myself?"

"Fuck no" He growled and crawled in after you. In hindsight it would have been easier and quicker to use the car doors, but he finally made it and it took you a while to find a position that wasn't too uncomfortable in the small space.

You ended up on his lap, facing the front of the car while he pulled down the straps of your dress and kissed your neck sofly. He squeezed your tits gently while whispering in your ear. "You know, since Monaco I've been dreaming of the day I would see you like this again. I was starting to think It never even happend. Like it was some kind of religious experience or something"

You giggled. What a sap. "If I had known that's how you felt I would have let you do this years ago. But could you get a move on please? I feel like I'm going to go insane if y-"

He cut you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion and sucked on his fingers to get them nice and wet.

"Good girl"

Your eyes rolled back as you leaned back against him and he chuckled.

"See, I did learn some things in Monaco"

He spread your legs which were hooked over his and trailed his now wet fingers down over your chest and stomach, as his other hand slid your panties to the side. The moment he made contact with your clit you jolted slightly in his grasp. Being horny for so long must have made you extra sensitive. And wet. It didn't take Max long to slide two fingers into you with ease as he crooked them immediately and you whimpered. Every movement, every press of his fingers felt like heaven and you could already feel that you weren't going to last long.

Before you could say anything though, Max's phone started ringing from the floor. He picked it up, fingers still making you writhe on his lap and answered the call, the absolute madman.

Then he pressed the phone to your ear and whispered in the other "Go on then schatje, talk to Christian, I'm a bit busy right now"

"What the FUCK Max where the hell are you?! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I'm going to kill you when you get here!"

You had to swallow down your moans in order to answer "Um hi Christian it's- it's me!" You squeaked out "Um we won't be making it unfortunately- Max- Max has indegestion and he's very ill and- aaah- he's- um he's-"

You were so close to the edge and Max showed no signs of stopping, you were becoming unintelligible under his skilled fingers.

"This is unacceptable behaviour! What the fuck have you done to him now?! It's always you causing proble-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out as you came hard around Max's fingers (when did he slip a 3rd one in?!) and you moaned loudly before Max could slap a hand over your mouth.

As you came down the silence on the line was deafening.

"Wh-"

Max interjected "We got high Christian I can't drive!" and hung up. "He won't be calling again I reckon"

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my GOD Max we're gonna be in so much trouble! Christian is gonna kill me because I made you miss an important dinner and- oh my god he just heard me have an orgasm that is your BOSS- fucking hell max what were-"

You hadn't noticed that during your rambling he had unbuckled his pants and taken his dick out, but as soon as he started rubbing the tip against your folds you stopped dead.

He chuckled "Fuck Christian, I wouldn't miss this for the world"

And with that he slid in to the hilt, punching a gasped moan out of you, and started pounding into you deep and fast, somehow reaching all the right spots immediately. The build up to this one felt different. It was faster and more intense, and you were speechless. You realised too late what was about about to happen as you started dripping onto his thighs. Then the flow got heavier and Max swore as his hips stuttered, his orgasm taking him by surprise. He stopped, still inside you and you felt drained, literally. You stayed like that for a minute, both of you catching your breaths as you came to the realisation... "Max, fuck! the car!"

"Fuck the car. I'll send the fee to Christian"

You huffed in disbelief. He was out of his mind. But for now it was just the two of you, in this now ruined car, drugs just starting to wear off, and that was enough for tonight, you needed to go home and sleep it off. You could worry about the consequences later.

"So... exactly how expensive was the weed?"

Inspired by this fake pic of 'max'

Yes, I will be writing the monaco thing, I had an amazing idea for it so... that will come at some point. Spoiler, it features another driver ooooh.

And also DISCLAIMER DO NOT SMOKE WHILE PUTTING GAS IN A CAR I AM SERIOUS THAT IS SUPER DANGEROUS

ALSO DO NOT SMOKE AND DRIVE

ALSO DO NOT ORGASM WHILE ON THE PHONE TO YOUR FRIENDS BOSS KIDS

#my thots #max thots #max verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut

245 notes · View notes

stuffeddeer · 6 months

Note

rock band member dazai where he’s often in the media for drama between him and his previous ex band partner and you happen to run into him (anonymously!) on a chatting app. eventually his “personal conflicts “ he tells you about him and a ex friend start to align a lot with a certain famous singer’s tabloid scandals, so you bite the bullet and ask if it’s him or if he is just going through the same exact specific events dazai is. he ends up revealing his identity and you end up getting backstage tickets to his shows and he ends up just as obsessed with you as you are (chuuya is pissed that somehow that shitty dazai got a partner before him)

its u.

Dazai’s heart rate picked up at the two grammatically incorrect words that popped up in his notifications. You’d been so close to figuring it out for weeks; Was today finally the day?

wdym

Right: play dumb. There’s no guarantee you figured out who he is, so he just needs to stay calm.

Sure, week after week he’d tell you stories from his life that popped up in magazines and circulated around online the next day or so, always causing you to come back and flaunt it in his face that your favorite guitarist had done it “bigger and better” (even though the stories were the exact same). You frequently pointed out similarities in them (being him and… himself) to the point where he almost saved and told you several times, but something always held him back. Maybe he should just finally rip the bandage off.

A photo message came in. It was a screenshot - a screenshot of a picture Dazai had sent you. In the background had a bright red circle around something small. He zoomed in, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t you just type it out? What a hassle - oh.

Yeah, he should’ve listened when his manager told him to pick it up and display it properly.

The image was a bird’s eye view of his hand, flashing his fresh coat of nail polish and his rather messy wooden floors (and his cute orange halloween socks). Nothing too damning upon first glance. Sure, you’d mentioned that your favorite band’s guitarist had painted his nails the same color, but that was mere coincidence, right?

No. Because this lazy moron couldn’t put things away, in the top left corner of the photo - the area circled in red - showed an opened package with the platinum record his band was gifted for their most popular song. Why would he have that if not a member of the band himself?

He looked up from his phone blankly, staring at the package still nestled on the side of his room. The only difference from the photo is that it had been pushed slightly to the side since then, stopping him from tripping over it. What a stupid mistake; Dazai had always been much more careful than this (except when he wasn't).

dude

u let me gush to u ab URSELF????

im embarrassed

Dazai smiled. Well, at least things weren’t awkward.

It had been a few months and you and Dazai were happy to talk in person now that he didn’t have to hide his face. You’d been backstage at many of his shows, meeting his bandmates and spending time in person. It had honestly been so much fun, but sometimes Dazai missed the cat and mouse game he’d been playing when you were unsure of his identity - back when you texted him rumors and articles about his own life, saying how crazy it was that your favorite artist went through the same things as him.

He’d woken up earlier than he wanted to due to the myriad of calls blowing up his phone. “What..” He grumbled, not even bothering to check caller ID. “Who is this?”

“You asshole! You got a fucking partner before I did? And they’re hot, too! No way they settled for you,” Chuuya continued to grumble while Dazai put him on speaker phone, tuning him out. Whatever he was yapping about didn’t matter once he noticed a notification from you.

do u know this guy? he seems to be goin thru the same things u r…

A link is included, leading Dazai to an article with a picture of him and you. The first thing he notices is how smitten he looks with you, causing him to blush very faintly as he smiles to himself. Is that really what he looks like around you?

Rockstar Dazai Osamu Finds New Fling - Or Maybe More?

More, definitely more.

“Are you listening, asshole?” Chuuya shouted from his speaker. “How’d ya get a partner before me?”

Dazai smiled, saving the paparazzi shot onto his phone. “My height, definitely.”

145 notes · View notes

tiddygame · 2 months

Text

You give me goose bumps

(repost because Tumblr was being Funky on my end-- sorry!)

Ao3

Summary: Ghost sat there, trying to figure out how in the hell he had gotten himself into this situation: Lying on the floor of the safe house with a massive werewolf using him as a teddy bear. Honestly, the sequence of events wasn’t too complicated.

Tw: violence, nightmares, and a smidgen panic

It was a few days before a full moon and Ghost and Soap were on a simple, low-stakes mission. All they needed to do was find some flash drive in a building that had been abandoned. Ghost really didn’t even need to watch soap from his vantage point.

The mission was intentionally simple. Having a task force composed almost entirely of monsters did have its downsides. Every full moon, one of those disadvantages reared its ugly head.

In general, when it came to the werewolf side of things, Soap had a pretty good grasp on staying in control and not involuntarily shifting or going berserk. The amount of control he had over both forms was honestly impressive.

Full moons were a different story. In the days leading up to them, instincts always got a bit harder to defy and shifting at will would sometimes go out the window entirely. It’s why they were here, at an abandoned building. A low-energy mission to not trigger a shift, but something that needed to be done and a good outlet for pent-up energy at the very least.

Ghost watched from his perch outside as Soap methodically searched the building, occasionally catching glimpses of him through windows. Soap didn’t need his help, he was just watching the exits, making sure no one went in or out. That didn’t stop Soap from complaining to him the entire time.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Is that your official assessment, sergeant?”

“Oh piss off, you’re outside in the middle of the day. I’m in this creepy shithole looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Focus, Mactavish.”

“I am! You might be different, but I can talk while doing something.”

Ghost didn’t grace that with a response.

“Any clue why they vacated?”

“Negative,” he tried not to think about how if it had been anyone else, he would’ve chewed them out for unprofessionalism three comments ago.

“They left in a hurry, some poor sod didn’t even finish his coffee,” it was said in a joking tone but Ghost could hear the genuine unease behind it.

“Just find the flash drive and get out. Sooner you’re done, the sooner we can leave,” he replied not unkindly, he might enjoy teasing the man but that didn’t mean he didn’t trust his instincts. If Soap felt like something was wrong, he’d take his word on it.

Ghost repositioned slightly, watching the floor Soap was on, looking in the windows through the scope. He was barely able to see his sergeant, just in view of the window. He saw when Soap stopped in the middle of the room, and turned in a circle, definitely looking for something but not a flash drive.

“Soap, sitrep. What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong,” he’d never seen his sergeant so spooked. He wanted to be angry, wanted to use his lieutenant voice to tell Soap to get a move on, but he couldn’t ignore the dread that was overwhelming him as well.

“Ghost, I don’t think we’re alone here,” well fucking Christ, did he have to say it as creepily as possible?

“Johnny—?” he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, whether to tell him to continue or to cut and run, but it didn’t matter. It took him a few moments to realize that the windows were slowly being covered by a black fog. He could see the wisps of smoke curling towards Johnny.

Soap noticed it too, “For fuck’s sake, I hate dealing with wraiths.”

Soap wasn’t too concerned, but Ghost was. He quickly abandoned his perch and booked it for the building. There wasn’t much a sniper could do against a cloud of smoke.

“I’m on my way, don’t die,” he hoped it went through but the way the radio was crackling didn’t fill him with hope.

“Aff—m—ve,” he was barely able to hear what he said, the radio now spewing a high-pitched ringing as if his tinnitus wasn’t already bad enough. He had to agree with Soap’s earlier comment, he hated dealing with wraiths.

If he didn’t already know the right floor, the unmistakable growl of a pissed wolf and loud crashes would have been a dead giveaway. He climbed through the stairwell as fast as he could. He burst through the door to the fourth floor, the open office space giving him a clear view of the confrontation.

His sergeant, obviously having shifted, in the corner, growling with his teeth bared. In front of him, a wraith stalking him, trying to find a weak point. It looked at him, deciding that between the two, Ghost would be the easier victim.

Ghost felt deep within him when the thing turned Its full attention to him. Wraiths were born of pure misery, torture, and dread, and they were intent on making everyone else suffer an even worse fate than they did. (For several, several years Ghost was convinced he was doomed to become one too, until a certain Scotsman entered his life, at least.) This one was strong, as It stared at him, he could feel all his happy memories turn necrotic.

The two of them stalked towards the other, Ghost’s boots stomping heavily on the ground and the wraith imitating him despite Its floating. It lunged, only becoming tangible when Its hands wrapped around his throat, trying to cut off his airway. As utter dread washed over him, he stabbed at the thing but it turned back to smoke before it could connect. They had entered a fatal tango, though It seemed to have forgotten that there was another involved.

With the wraith distracted, Soap pounced. The tricky thing with fighting wraiths was their ability to become intangible at will. Standard protocol for dealing with one involved lengthy planning and strategizing, wearing them out before—

Oh, good god, It was already dead.

Soap ripped the thing apart in the same way a dog would its favorite chew toy. He had the thing’s neck between his teeth and was shaking It back and forth, the wraith trying to claw at his snout. It was clinging to life until the final tendons gave way and Its body dropped with a heavy thud. Ghost couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad for the thing.

While Its body was now detached from Its neck, Soap still wasn’t done. He put one paw on the thing's head and kept going, not stopping until the wraith had been separated into three parts.

Soap grabbed the throat and happily trotted to Ghost, wanting him to put his hand out.

Uncomprehendingly, he did. Soap dropped it in his hand and barked, his tail excitedly wagging away.

He realized as it was nudged towards him that it was a gift. Soap had gifted him the throat of the creature that tried to kill him. He really couldn’t tell if that meant he was lost in his instincts or if it was Soap being Soap.

“Thanks,” he was touched either way.

The werewolf barked and spun in a circle, having too much energy for such a large thing in such a small space.

“Let’s find that flash drive and get out of here,” Ghost had to fight to keep the baby talk tone he normally used when talking to dogs out of his voice. Werewolves weren’t domesticated dogs and it was beyond rude to treat them as such, regardless of which form they were in or how far in their instincts they were. Still, Ghost couldn’t help but compare the way Soap was jumping around to that of a puppy that didn’t know its size. He was far from an expert in them but he knew Soap was rather large for a werewolf; it was a miracle he fit through the hallways.

They went on to clear the building, eventually finding what they were after a few floors above where the wraith had attacked. Ghost still didn’t know what to do with the esophagus he had been given, so he just… held on to it. What was werewolf etiquette for being gifted a body part?

He remembered the whole thing with cats bringing their owners dead animals because they thought that their owners couldn’t hunt and internally groaned. Please, please, please do not tell him he is expected to eat this?

He hadn’t wanted to set it down because if Soap was in control and had knowingly given it to him, that would just be a dick move. And really, the same applied for if he was lost in his instincts, it would still be mean to simply toss it aside. Maybe he was just overthinking this.

Can you overthink being given the throat of your enemy? It seems like it might be one of those things that you can only under-think.

His pondering was interrupted by Soap stopping and sniffing the air. He let out a rumbling growl, sniffed once more, and then began herding Ghost to the exit. He wanted to ask what was wrong but it wasn’t like the wolf would’ve been able to answer. Regardless, just like his instincts earlier, Ghost knew to trust Soap’s senses.

As they made their way to the ground floor, he could hear engines in the distance.

“Ah, shit…” Why now did they have to return to reclaim their stupid building?

He looked around the perimeter and saw an abandoned truck near the fence. Ghost got Soap’s attention and gestured to the vehicle, both running for it.

When the door didn’t open, he didn’t hesitate to smash in the window. As he hotwired the car, Soap started pacing back and forth, clearly unhappy at the fact that he wasn’t able to help in some way. When the werewolf heard the engine start, he perked up and ran towards the driver’s door, spinning in circles.

Ghost stepped to the side, wanting to let him in before he got behind the wheel. There was shouting coming from in front of them, some poor guard trying to get their attention who likely didn’t realize he was staring at the people who just stole incredibly valuable information right out from underneath their noses.

The guy, somehow not noticing the werewolf, approached, talking about how Ghost shouldn’t have access to the truck. He had the advantage, already holding his gun. They needed a distraction.

Some men stormed out of the exit of the building they had just fled through, gesturing wildly with their hands, shouting, “Something already killed the wraith!”

When eyes turned to the truck, Ghost had already gotten in and put it in drive.

If the guard hadn’t realized earlier, then it probably dawned on him as he had to jump out of the way to avoid getting run over. Some others tried to stop him, but there was a reason Ghost never got a driver’s license. He had spotted a locked chain link fence gate that looked just right for their grand escape and floored it. He laughed at their panic when they realized he wasn’t slowing down but tried not to be disappointed by the lack of sudden speed bumps. Soap had his fun earlier, why can’t Ghost have his?

They cleared the gate with ease and were speeding down old, back country roads in no time. Soap had moved to the backseat (the front being nowhere near big enough for him) and pawed at the window. Ghost, still riding the high of almost running people over, chuckled and let down the window, looking in the rearview mirror as Soap stuck his head out.

Knowing him, he was probably still mostly there and was enjoying having an excuse to be even stupider than usual. Ghost tried not to watch him, but he was happy to see his sergeant so happy. Besides, he’d seen enough shifts gone wrong to know that they were lucky he was still in such high spirits after a fear-induced shift.

He felt something by his foot and glanced down at the floorboard, seeing the throat still sitting there from where he had dropped it to hotwire the car. Huh. Seriously, what in the ever-loving fuck are you supposed to do in this situation?!

When he could safely say that no one was chasing them, he pulled over and got out, Soap following, running around to get out energy that was still pent up. He radioed Price, updating him on the situation. Luckily, there was a safe house nearby. Unluckily, it was a shithole.

It looked like the military saw a house going into foreclosure, bought it, then left it to rot. Even from the outside, he could see that the roof looked one more storm away from collapse and the windows had been boarded up with plywood. The only thing keeping the walls up was the structural support from how much vegetation covered the outside. How homely.

The front door wasn’t even big enough for Soap to fit, they had to go around and find a sliding back door that opened wider (he didn’t chuckle at the fact that the front door was too small for the behemoth of a werewolf, definitely not.) It didn’t take long to clear the house, the only hostile he found was some mold growing in the corner that could probably start another strand of the bubonic plague.

Ghost went back to the main room and picked through their MREs, preparing them while Soap sniffed every nook and cranny of the house. The novelty of such a large thing in such a small area had yet to wear off, and he still silently laughed at Soap having to squeeze through the doors. The wolf continually let out annoyed huffs and Ghost knew that if he still had human vocal chords, he would be prattling on and on about how stupid the door frames were.

Once Soap had checked the house himself, he made his way back and shoved his snout in Ghost’s way, both to see what he was doing and to be a nuisance. Ghost laughed and shoved his face away, knowing Soap was about to start a campaign to make sure the lieutenant wouldn’t be able to prepare their dinner in peace.

His left hand being designated as the ‘shove Soap away’ hand, he was able to continue setting up the heating element one-handed. At some point, Ghost stopped pulling his hand away and left it on his forehead, pushing as needed. And, because Ghost’s main talent is ruining things, it evolved into his left hand scratching Soap’s ears, apparently having forgotten the most basic rule when interacting with werewolves.

“If you wouldn’t do it to a human, don’t do it to them. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger and start petting their head, would you?”

Ghost stopped and pulled his hand away, muttering an embarrassed apology that wouldn’t come close to making up for treating his sergeant like some random street dog. Throughout the petting, Soap’s head had dropped low, likely having feared retaliation if he protested the ministrations and just deciding to grin and bear it.

Soap growled, shoving his head towards his chest.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. It was just…,” just what? Instinct to dehumanize the person who just saved your life?

“Just… nothing. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

This time Soap whined and dropped his head in Ghost’s lap, staring up at him sadly.

“I know,” this time even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

By some saving grace, the MREs were ready. He set Soap’s next to him before subtly inching away, not wanting to force the poor man to eat next to him.

Soap huffed and nudged his food closer to Ghost before plopping down practically on top of the man and digging in. Ghost was frozen for a second, staring at his sergeant, before he too relaxed and began eating. It didn’t take long for them to finish up, both inhaling their food as fast as they could. Soap doing so from the increased appetite brought on by shifting, and Ghost hoping that he wouldn’t have to taste whatever the military considered edible.

Within no time Soap was stretching and yawning while Ghost situated himself at the window.

“I’ll take watch while you sleep,” he didn’t even bother trying to lie and pretend that he would wake Soap up to take shifts. No human vocal cords meant no arguing. He got comfortable, moving the curtains to just the right angle for him to see out while keeping the view from outside obscured.

Something was tugging his sleeve. Maybe the werewolf was further in his instincts than he thought.

When he looked, as expected, he saw Soap trying to gently pull him away. Ghost chuckled again, Soap always had to be careful watching his strength when shifted. He pulled his hand back and went to ruffle Soap’s ears before aborting the motion short. He’s not making that mistake again.

“Go to sleep, I know you’re tired from shifting. I’m the one that can still operate a gun.”

Soap growled. Ghost rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, “Go to sleep, sergeant.”

Soap backed away and, for a foolish second, Ghost thought that was it, that he had won.

He tried to lean back against the window frame but his shoulder wasn’t even able to make contact with the wall before something was latching onto his wrist, pulling him towards the corner that their bedrolls had been tossed to.

“Mactavish, that is enough,” he put as much authority in his voice as he could while being yanked around by a very stubborn werewolf. Ghost tried to pull his arm away but, unlike before, Soap’s grip tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt, at least, so long as he went with Soap it wasn’t.

Soap growled. Just like the grip, before it had been playful, but not now. Ghost went with him, mostly out of shock. It was the first time the wolf’s ire had been directed towards him.

As he was shoved towards the makeshift bed, he gave in, “Alright, alright, I fucking get it.”

He laid down but didn’t remove any of his gear, as soon as Soap was asleep, he would be taking point at the window.

To his great frustration, Soap already seemed to know his plan and was biting at his tac vest. If Soap was far in his instincts, how would he know why Ghost kept his gear on? Was Soap, of sound body and mind, actually throwing a tantrum over who took watch?

“For Fuck’s sake, sergeant. Pull yourself together,” even as he said it he gave in to the repeated nips and growls and removed most of his gear, save for a gun holster and a few knives.

Soap seemed pleased and pushed his head into Ghost's chest to make him lie down again. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t exhausted enough for sleep’s mercy to grace him. It was bad enough on base, but on missions, his inability to sleep was somehow worse.

His misery was interrupted by something walking in front of him.

“What the hell was the point of making me lie down if you’re not going to watch either?”

Soap didn’t answer, just turned in circles getting ready to lie down. Until he saw Ghost moving to get up. Then he switched gears and dropped himself on top of him so he couldn’t get up and paid no mind to his gasping.

“Johnny, you-,” he shoved at the wolf and let out a wheezy breath, “you heavy bastard, move.”

Soap did no such thing and stared down at him from a sharp angle, noses less than two inches apart. As Ghost got used to the weight, he was able to breathe fully, finding most of Soap’s weight was dispersed enough that he wouldn’t be dying of crush syndrome anytime soon.

He also knew he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.

Ghost sighed to the best of his ability and reached for his radio.

Soap, as expected, growled.

“I’m just grabbing my radio to tell Price we aren’t dead. Is that alright with you?” the sarcasm in his tone was heavy but Soap just huffed and dropped his head back on (and completely covering) Ghost’s chest.

Price is a traitor and he revokes any positive comment he has ever made in regards to the captain. When Ghost informed him of his predicament and the fact that Soap had trapped his superior officer, the cruel bastard just laughed.

Price told him that Soap would hear someone before Ghost could see them with a scope and that he should enjoy the break and sleep. When he complained more, Price had the audacity to wrinkle paper and tell him the signal was dropping. Bastard.

He dropped his radio on the floor and readjusted himself. Chances were, he’d still be able to shrug off Soap once he fell asleep, it would just be a bit more difficult. Johnny was leaning into him and somehow managed to snuggle closer.

/\/\/\/\/\

Simon awoke with phantom images of blood on the carpet and the echoing of screams ringing in his ears.

He was still lying there, trapped underneath his sergeant who he seemed to have woken up with his sudden panic. Thankfully, the wolf moved and let him sit up, still trying to parse through his memories (real, fabricated, and embellished) and unable to get his breathing under control.

Something was tugging his sleeve.

He couldn’t see much beyond his blood-stained hands but recognized the sensation of fur under his fingers as he grieved once again. How many fucking times would he have to go through this? He pushed himself so his back was to the wall and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

And yet they're still dead, aren’t they?

There was a weight in his lap. It was something heavy. He felt it and felt the same fur from before. He clenched his eyes tighter and tried desperately to breathe. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

He lifted his hand, feeling like he had to rip out his hair, but Johnny noticed and rooted around, getting his nose under Ghost’s hand. Ghost moved his hand away but Soap just shoved his head back under it. Simon began very hesitantly scratching his ears. In for 6, hold for 9, out for 10.

He allowed himself to relax, if only slightly, and even brought his other hand up to scratch his other ear. Simon buried his head in the fur in front of him. In for 8, hold for 11, out for 12.

Simon cried. He hated doing it, especially in front of others, but he could hear Johnny admonishing him, telling him that crying was healthy, that it was just as necessary as laughter. He always hated the weakness and vulnerability it brought, hated the idea of people knowing he was upset, but Johnny was always the exception, wasn’t he?

After an embarrassing amount of time, he leaned back and wiped his eyes. He saw Johnny’s head resting in his lap, stupidly blue eyes watching him with care. The rest of the room eventually made its way in, light trickling in through cracks in the roof and an early morning chill settling around them. Later, it would likely be so hot that the ice of hypothermia felt desirable, but as for now, Simon shivered.

Johnny wormed closer and curled around him. Unlike last night when it was meant to make sure he would stay down, this time it was to make sure as much of him was covered as possible. Simon felt bad for forcing Johnny into the role of service dog and weighted blanket, but Johnny’s not-quite-snores were rather helpful in assuring him that the wolf enjoyed their current position as much as he did.

Simon continued scratching his ears and muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Johnny huffed happily and nuzzled closer.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #soap x ghost #werewolf au #werewolf!soap #my writing

88 notes · View notes

dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

MU$IC FAIRY || MYG

❃ Festivaled Away: Burned Memories hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤞ Ticket: Playlist ⤞ Main Event: Based on a Playlist ⤞ Games: fucking playlist | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation

Read on AO3

Thank you for completing our questionnaire. Please stay on the line and allow us to find you the perfect match…

With a few basic questions and a two minute wait, he was paired with a woman that sounds rather beautiful. He imagines that she is, at least. Well, he hopes.

He’s been chatting with her for about an half of a minute, and he’s feeling her. So he doesn’t hang up when the official timer begins.

“So umm…how confidential is this?” He can never be too careful. This could ruin his reputation if someone found out. “You said you’ve done this before, right?”

“Yeah, it’s safe, love. Trust me.”

He hopes you’re right.

“After you complete the questionnaire, they pair you with a random person who has similar preferences.”

He pushes the worrisome thoughts to the back of his mind and proceeds to pleasure himself before time is up. He’s currently living paycheck to paycheck, so fifteen minutes was all he could afford.

“Should I lead or…?”

He scoffs out a laugh. “I got it, babe. Just vibe with me.”

“Okay.” Your response is through small labored breaths. You must be broke as shit too because you aren’t wasting any time. “C-Can you put on some music or something?...I umm, can’t do it when it’s this quiet.”

He grabs his laptop and allows whatever track is next to travel through the speakers.

Fuck. He forgot about the beats he was playing for someone earlier. Hopefully, it doesn’t ruin your mood before he can change it. “Sorry,” he mutters a bit embarrassed.

“No, this is fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s sensual,” you pant. His brows knit together in curiosity and he momentarily ceases his movements. “The bass complements your voice well, actually. Did you umm…?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I like it.” The little moan behind those words has him standing at attention. In any second, he could blow his load.

“Yeah? What else do you like?...Tell me what gets your attention.”

There’s a pause. “Or would you rather me shut up?”

“The opposite. I wanna hear you…your voice. You sound hot,” you giggle and it’s one of the most soothing things he’s ever heard. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You don’t sound bad either…Just hearing you laugh is making me hard.”

He hears a whimper; one of the sexiest, neediest whines to ever grace his ears. “Tell me what you just did. Don’t be shy.”

“I—”

You hesitate, so he steps in.

“Touching your pussy, huh?”

He senses through the phone how worked up he’s getting you. You’ve started panting and moaning out your words shamelessly.

“Mmhm, my clit.”

He chuckles and whispers of curses come through the phone.

“Do me a favor?” you agree and he continues. “Move a little lower and dip your fingers in your pussy. Tell me how wet it is.”

He uses his spit for lubrication and tightens his fist around his cock. He imagines it was your walls snuggled around him, pumping his length as you bounce up and down. Something inside of him believes that you’re pretty, with a nice ass too. A really nice ass, that’s what his fantasies project at least.

“Fuck. How many?” you ask him.

Damn. You’re obedient as well. That’s hot, really hot.

“As many as your pretty cunt can take.”

When he hears a muffled cry, his bottom lips tucks between his teeth while he concentrates on the squelching sounds coming through the phone. You both move in sync with the music and allow it to take away the nervous jitters the both of you had previously. His cock starts twitching in his palm when your sweet little moans move through his ears.

“How many did you use, sweetheart?”

You answer him in a high-pitched voice. You’re close too, he can hear it. Your eyes are probably screwed shut, trying to keep it together to prolong the call, but he has to go before his bill skyrockets. He needs to get you off—quickly.

“Two. Three, now. I needed more.”

“Greedy, aren’t we?”

“No…I’m just really horny.”

He has to smile at that. “Yeah? Me too. This is good, but I'd rather be balls deep in you.”

“Fuck, I’d like it.”

Sweat beads on his forehead, but he just wipes it away with the back of his hand and keeps going. The music has changed to something more upbeat and he knows this is his shot for home plate.

“Really? Is that why you’re making a mess? I can hear it, you know...you’re so fucking wet.”

“Shit, I wanna come,” your words are barely recognizable and you just keep begging him for more, “please help me.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Take your fingers out and rub your clit. Spread that sticky shit all over it and get yourself off.”

He throws his head back and curls his toes, bracing himself for the impact of his orgasm. This has to top he sexual encounters and he’s not even touching you. It’s just something about you that’s driving him insane. He doesn’t even know your name, but he doesn’t need to, not when all that matters now is the pleasure of this experience.

“I’d lick it all up too, eat you out until you cry and forget your own fucking name. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I wanna feel you so bad.”

“I know, baby. You’d let me take you anyway I’d like, wouldn’t you?...I could bend you over? Dick you down with your legs pinned by your head. I fuck you up, princess and you’d never want another.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

Dead silence.

“Are you kidding me? Fuck!”

The phone hangs up just as you both reach your climaxes. Disappointment is thick in the air as his quick strokes gradually begin to slow. He groans and curses angrily at the loss, and grips fistfuls of his hair in frustration. Out of all the people for this to happen to; it had to be him. Just when he thought his luck couldn’t get any worse, this happens and proves that life is just out to get him.

“Something’s gotta give, man. I can’t keep living like this.”

So, he shrugs off his needs and does what he does best—work. He puts on his headphones and hopes that one of these tracks will be the one that opens the door to all of his dreams.

Two years later…

“This is your boy Jay Millz, and you're listening to Q107.9. We got my man Suga in the motherfuckin’ building. This guy has the hottest track on the radio right now, bro. He’s gonna be chilling with us for a minute while we dip into the Rush Hour Mix with DJ Reign. Suga! How you doin’, man?...”

He nods and greets the guy behind the mic. They extend their arms for a brief handshake before he continues. “What’s good? Glad to be here, man.”

Yoongi looks around the table and sighs. He’s tired of the same fucking questions.

What’s next for you? How does it feel to be the hottest rapper out right now? Will you sign with SlaughterHouse Records?

As if he’d leave a crumb behind for the tabloids to fight over. Yoongi’s been careful; really careful. He’s worked hard to maintain a decent reputation; besides a few run-ins with the law. But overall, he’s avoided anything that could damage the image he’s created for his pseudo.

Many have tried to tear him down, or trip him up. However, he knows how to handle those people, and that’s what he’s about to do when the woman across from him asks the question lingering on the tip of her tongue. He knows it’s coming; he can tell by the way her nails tap on the table. She waits for silence and then she goes for the kill.

“So…Suga, you know I have to ask.”

The other co host sighs with an exhausted eyeroll. “Bee, please don’t start.”

“I have to. The people wanna know,” she argues and Yoongi can feel his head starting to throb.

It’s bad enough that he hates these things and they cannot stop themselves from trying to dabble in his personal life.

“Anyway, are you currently dating anyone, Suga? A fan? A girlfriend?...etc?”

Yoongi looks to his left and gives her a lazy smirk, just fucking with her mind a bit before he responds.

“Nahh, I’m good. Gotta stay focused, you feel me?”

He takes a sip from his cup and savors the cold liquor before he gulps it down, watching the poor girl slump her shoulders in defeat. However, he was a fool to think this was over.

“And what about Mu$ic Fairy?” the interviewer to his right asks.

“What about her?”

He sets down his cup and turns in the man’s direction.

“She dropped a new playlist last night. I know a lot of us would have gone to see about that by now.”

Yoongi scoffs out a laugh. “Well, I’m not a lot of us, am I?”

“Damn right,” Jay chimes in from across the table. He notices Bee shaking her head in the corner and he couldn’t agree with her more. This is ridiculous.

This girl, “Mu$ic Fairy” or whatever she calls herself is nothing but a fucking distraction. No one can resist bringing her up when he’s in the room. There’s no fucking escape.

At first, it was cute. A few Spotify playlists dropped every once in a while with a rather risqué cover just to tease, but now it’s an entire movement. Some fans are even calling themselves fairies, and wearing themed attire to his performances.

He fucking hates it. The wings, the glitter, the overly sweet tones in which they speak. Of course, he appreciates his fans and they’re fun to look at, but Yoongi’s a picky guy. And if that’s the kind of girl you are, then you aren’t his type.

“I would’ve probably hit her up after she dropped the Fre@kii Ho @nthem! playlist.”

Jay bumps fists with the other guy host after he says that and they have a “same” moment.

Bee adds her input after it quiets down.

“Well, I’m going to have to agree with—”

“Do not…say her name around me,” Yoongi intervenes.

He can’t; not when he has a show tonight. Just hearing her name pisses him off.

Another reason he hates doing interviews is because someone always has to mention…

“Oh, are you talking about that podcaster?...Damn, what’s her name…”

Jay struggles to remember while snapping his fingers, so Bee attempts to help him out. However, Yoongi cuts her off before she can speak of the devil.

“Don’t you dare.”

The woman once again backs down and carries on.

“Well anyway, I agree with you know who. She makes valid points about how none of these people were after him before he started making industry music. They don’t really fuck with the real Suga.”

Yoongi only nods his head because the annoying bitch behind that podcast is right. This Mu$ic Fairy chick started showing up when he became popular and so did her followers. But that’s about one of the only things he agrees with. Everything else is out of line. This woman doesn’t know anything about him, but yet always has an input to give when it comes to his music.

One of the interviewers notices his change in demeanor and senses the hatred he has for this chick. He steps in and changes the subject quickly.

“Shit, we’re almost out of time. That’s what happens when you’re chillin’ with one of the greatest to ever do it.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Nahh, man. Don’t put that on me yet. Give me some time.”

“Many would have to disagree with you there, bro. Matter of fact, you should ask them. Why don’t you tell the listeners where you’re gonna be tonight?”

“Yuh, tonight you can catch me at the Varsity. Tickets sold out, but yeah…fuck with me.”

The interviewers briefly share a round of applause before Jay concludes.

“Alright. You heard him. Tickets sold out, but who knows ladies…he might just take you home for the after party, right bro?”

Yoongi can only press his lips in a straight line because anyone that knows him, knows that a piece of ass is the last thing on his mind right now, but for the sake of some poor girl’s imagination…

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

And because of this, he’s probably going to have to fight his way out of the club.

The rush Yoongi gets from being on stage always lingers in his veins even after the music stops. The crowd keeps the energy going and going. They scream his name, applaud his techniques, and praise his stage presence like he’s a king. He is, in a way. Suga is the king of this city; there isn’t a guy who doesn’t want to be him or a woman who doesn’t want to fuck him.

Typically, temptation is easy to resist since his career leaves him little time for extracurricular activities. However, sometimes he just can’t allow something to slip away. Not again.

“You killed it tonight, man.”

Yoongi doesn’t even spare his manager a glance as he brushes past him. His train of vision is focused on that little black dress swaying through the crowd. If he takes his eyes off of you for a second, he knows he’ll lose you in the mass of people.

“Thanks, dude. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

He doesn’t know what was said in response because he’s out of range within seconds. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not even sure of why.

You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that—and sexy. But something else about you is just luring him in, and he thinks he knows why. At least, that’s his excuse for following you outside of the club.

It’s dangerous, of course, since anyone could be waiting to get him alone. But tonight he can’t let you just leave without a word. He’s done that too many times. You show up to show after show, stare him down as if he’s your last meal, then leave without even a wave or goodbye.

Yoongi’s had enough; this ends now.

“Hey!”

You immediately stop in your tracks at the sound of his voice. He wastes no time trying to eliminate the distance between you, but you dash down an adjacent alley before he can get close enough to talk to you.

He follows you, and calls out to you one more time before you halt and finally respond to him.

“Hey there.”

Your voice is so dulcet, but edgy…and familiar. Where has he heard it before?

“Looking for me?” The closer he gets the more clearer the sound becomes and eventually it clicks. He knows exactly why he knows your voice.

But you aren’t the person he thought you were, and you’re the last person he wants to see.

“You’re that podcaster, aren’t you?” Yoongi questions, approaching you carefully. At least his mind still holds the common sense to be cautious.

When you look over shoulder, it’s like his breath leaves his body. He’s seen his share of gorgeous women, but you are out of this world. There’s no way you could be her. But everything is telling him that you are.

“Depends…who wants to know?”

Yoongi doesn’t know where to look first. Your face or the body that comes along with it. “You or the bitches who want to be like me?”

The moment he’s close enough to hear the cockiness oozing from your voice, he knows it’s you without a doubt. He can feel the same aura radiating from you now that he does whenever he listens to those podcasts. You’re her; he’s a hundred percent sure of it.

“So you’re bold behind the mic, but now you’re too pussy to look at me?”

You turn around on queue, adorning a wide smirk that he’d give anything to wipe off your gorgeous face. “Better?”

Yoongi nods slowly and takes a few steps towards you. With every step he takes you move backwards, allowing him to corner you and in the dimly lit alley.

“It’s funny because with all the shit you talk on air, I didn’t take you to be a runner,” he points out.

“I don’t think you know me well enough to assume that, love.”

“But you know me well enough to critique my music?”

You hum. “I do, actually.”

“Really?” When your back nearly touches the brick wall, he leans in a little closer. You show no signs of uneasiness so he plants his palm on brick structure and hovers over your shorter frame. “What makes you believe that?”

“Because I’ve been a fan for a very long time. Ever since your underground days. You’ve never noticed me…but I was there.”

When he gives you a look, you roll your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe a word that pretty mouth of yours spits out.

“Your first real gig was on your birthday. You were a senior in high school and you invited your parents to the show. You looked around and when you finally saw them you smiled like a fucking dork.”

Damn. You read him like a book, but that doesn’t make up for the negativity spilled on your behalf.

“So you’ve been following me to shows so you can build up the repertoire for your little podcast? For how long?”

You shake your head in denial.

“I followed you because you’ve always been my favorite artist. I admire you, and I’ve been around since the beginning. Even when nobody was fucking with your music…your real music. The kind you’re passionate about.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Like you would know anything about that.”

“But, I do. That’s why I’m so pissed at you. All you make is industry music now, and I’m just…bored, I guess.”

You’re cute when you shrug your shoulders, but your eyes are lethal. He feels like he’s being stripped bare under your gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were silently flirting with him, but they’d be a reach.

“So find a hobby,” he suggests.

“I did find hobbies. The podcast, the playlists, the—”

“Wait,” Yoongi’s face contorts with confusion at those words, believing that he’s misheard you, “...you said playlists. What playlists?”

Your smirk returns and Yoongi suddenly feels his cock slowly rising in his underwear. Why do the heavens place the demons in the most beautiful women; he’ll never understand.

“You know which playlists I’m talking about, love…” your hand makes a move to touch his shoulder but he grabs your arm to prevent contact, “they were made for you.”

“Made for me? What does…”

Oh, damn.

“Are you…?”

“Well, it sure isn’t the whore in there dressed like Tinkerbell. You think I’d wear that shit?” Your laugh is so intoxicating; he almost cracks a smile just standing there watching you. “I don’t need all of that to grasp your attention. I never have.”

Yoongi shakes his head. All this time you were right under his nose. Two women he could never stand to mention are placed right in front of him, hiding behind a goddess. It’s pure comedy; his reaction to the news should have him pulling away from you and heading in the opposite direction.

But can admit that he judges a book by its cover; you aren’t what he thought you were. You’re different, interesting…someone he’d actually like to have underneath him in the opportunity ever presents itself. But he’s confused…why him? Why go through all the trouble if the music is all you care about? That whole Mu$ic Fairy concept has completely fucked with his mind.

How does he go from having no interest to wanting to see what it’s all about? There has to be more to it; otherwise, it makes no sense. You two are strangers.

He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.

“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your beautiful glossed lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in.

He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it.

“Why tonight?” he asks you.

You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.

“Because…I’m horny, and I’m tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.”

He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—

“And, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.

“What might that be, love?”

Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.

“An orgasm.”

Everything grows quiet after you articulate those words. It only takes him a couple of seconds to remember, and when his mind processes it all, his brain nearly malfunctions as he tries to speak.

“You’re fucking with me,” he insists.

“You should know by now that I’m tired of the games, Yoongi.” His body shutters when you use his real name. Something he’d normally go off about, but he never wants you to stop saying it. He needs to hear you say it again; for an entirely different reason. “You can tell me to fuck off, if you want.”

He blinks a few times, not realizing he was just standing there and not saying anything.

“No, no. I’m just–wow…I never expected you to remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday you’re matched with your favorite rapper on a sex hotline,” you wink and Yoongi’s mouth falls open.

“You knew it was me the whole time?...and you didn’t say anything?”

You nod. “Yeah, I did. Your voice, your demeanor; I knew from the start, but I played along because you obviously weren’t on the call to talk about mixtapes. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself, I guess.”

“This is fucking crazy.”

Yoongi’s speechless. That was kind, and you kept it a secret all this time. Suddenly, all of this seems kind of sexy. It’s a secret he could have been in on if only he had read between the lines. However, he knows now, and it’s still technically still a secret…if it stays between you and him.

Your lips are once again his main focus; he’s so close to living the fantasies he had of you all those nights he wondered about how you handled yourself after the phone call ended. Did you come? Or was your mood ruined like his? He sure hopes not, because you were incredible and if anyone deserved to finish, it should have been you.

He was right about you too. You are sexy, and the longer he stands here with you, the harder it is for him to hold back on his urges. But hearing your needy voice breaks him entirely.

“How much longer am I going to have to wait for it, Yoongi?”

All regards for his reputation goes out the window. He looks towards both ends of the alley before he makes his move. Anyone could be watching, but once he feels your hands sliding up his body, he decides that that is no longer his concern.

“Come here.”

Yoongi grabs you by your throat, but doesn’t squeeze or choke you. He just wants you closer, and your eyes tell him you understand where he’s going from.

“I live 20 minutes away from here, think you can wait that long?”

“Do I have a choice?” you reply and that sass is what gets him riled up.

He doesn’t think twice about kissing your pillow soft lips. He’s been staring at them, wishing he could feel them, taste them, and now he is and he already can’t get enough. The level of sweetness on his taste buds is sinful, but it’s one addiction he’d never give up.

His tongue enters your mouth without any resistance from you, and he eagerly explores its depths, getting familiar with the woman wrapped in his arms as if he has all the time in the world with you. Your moans sends vibrations through his throat when he lifts your leg, nuzzling his crotch against your heat.

Yoongi would fuck you right now while he has you pinned against this wall but that just wouldn’t satisfy his thirst for you. You’ve been teasing him for too long for him to just rush this. It took two years to lead up to this moment, a quickie would never do it any justice.

“I need you to be on your best behavior until we get to my place,” he tells you through his slightly labored breaths.

“And if I don’t?”

His features harden.

“Then you won’t get anything, now come on. Let’s dip before one of your friends sees me without security.”

Or…before he changes his mind. He’s had plenty of bad ideas, but this tops the list.

Breathtaking.

It’s the only thing you can think about as your eyes scan over the sleek hood of the Lamborghini Gallardo. The man’s got some taste, you have to admit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be taking you to his place. You like the fact that he’s picky, but always chooses correctly.

You drink in the sight before—Yoongi standing there in his stage outfit, complimenting his car. The vehicle’s custom, all white except for the tires and the heavily tinted windows. You could only quiver at the image of him driving it, and when it actually happens, your mind and your mouth start to go in different directions.

He asks you basic questions like your name and where you’re from; you can only hope you’ve given him the correct answers because you cannot break away from the visual of him gripping the wheel with one hand while he’s laid back in his seat. His jewelry glistens and shines even in the darkness of his car, but your eyes still fight through the nearly blinding twinkle so you can watch the man behind it all.

You’ve wanted him since you first saw him. He came to a pep rally at your high school and you fell in love with his music and his sound—his voice especially. Sure he was a cutie, still is. But he had so much hunger, so much passion for music that you felt him on a spiritual level.

He did so well on his first performance, and you remember telling your friends how much you wanted to listen to his Soundcloud when the event was over. Of course, they laughed and thought he sucked because he didn’t fit their visual standards, but now…they probably wish they’d been a little more invested in him.

“Can you stop doing that and answer my question?”

There it is again. That voice. It drives you crazy; when he said hello to you on that hotline, you knew without a doubt you were talking to your favorite rapper.

“Wha–Doing what?”

“Eye fucking me and biting your lip like that. Do you want me to pull over?”

Well.

You open your mouth to speak but he interjects.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t even answer that. Certain things I don’t need in my head while I’m operating a vehicle.”

Your neck and face heat up. If only he knew that you aren’t as confident as you appear. He’s hot, but the fact that he doesn’t know it makes him hotter.

“Sorry,” you turn towards the window so you can smile. You don’t want to feed his ego. No matter how much he denies it, he’s cocky as hell. If he knows you’re gawking over him simply driving, he’ll run with it. “...What did you ask me?”

A slow exhale leaves his lips, like he’s slightly annoyed and you should be offended, but damn—it was kind of sexy.

“I just wanted to know what you do for a living. How can you afford to travel and come to shows all the time? ...I’m just curious.”

“Why? You think I’m selling my—”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You were thinking it, and the answer is ‘no’. And no, I don’t have an OnlyFans either…probably should, though. I’d make bank,” you shrug.

“Look, I know you aren’t doing any of that. Honestly, you seem kind of selfish with the goods anyway, but…tell me how you keep up. That’s all I’m saying. Podcasts bring in that much money?”

“No they don’t, especially when you do them for free. I’m a writer. I write songs and I sell them to some of your favorite artists.”

Yoongi whistles. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Name a few.”

“This isn’t roll call, babe. If you wanna look up my credentials, you know my name now…Google me.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Fine,” you scoff.

When you look forward, you notice that you’re entering a gated community. Yoongi lets down his window and waves at the on-duty guard before the older man opens the automatic gate.

After driving past many luxurious homes, Yoongi pulls into a driveway and uses a clicker to open the garage door.

“We’re here,” he announces.

His home is lovely, and you’re in awe by the set up and interior design once you enter. You’re impressed, most guys don’t spend much thought on this level of organization.

Yoongi leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering more and more as you get closer to the top of the stairs. Your knees buckle slightly when he opens the door, but your eyes still look in every direction once you’ve made it inside.

It’s dark, but you can still make out the colors that fill the room. Blacks and grays with white walls. His bed is draped with a dark set; you can’t help but find it inviting. And it’s huge; you imagine he must be a wild sleeper because you couldn’t imagine sleeping in a bed that large alone.

“I love your home, Suga.”

He waves his hand. “Thanks, but you don’t have to call me that. You didn’t call me that earlier.”

“I didn’t?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and tells you that you can make yourself comfortable while he disappears into his closet. When he returns with clothes, you tilt your head with curiosity. “I’m gonna go shower, don’t get too nosey while you’re in here by yourself.”

“You’re leaving me? Why can’t I join you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen for a second and a hand runs through his hair while he ponders over his answer. “Because umm…”

You crane your neck trying to coax an answer but he still stammers.

“It’s…you know.”

You smile. He’s kind of adorable, in a way.

“Too intimate?”

“Exactly.”

Your head lolls back while you laugh and Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re in there?” you call out and he stops to turn around.

You watch him get ready to produce a smart remark. However, he pauses before he can get it out. He puts his clothes on the bed and walks over to the nightstand, turning on his laptop and grabbing some Bluetooth headphones from the drawer.

“Here,” he says, pairing them to his computer and then handing them to you. You take them before you look up at him, wondering where he’s going with this, but he’s quick to fill you in. “Listen to this, I won’t be long.”

Yoongi puts on some music and gives you a wink that makes your pussy clench. He leaves you sitting on his bed, headphones in hand without another word.

For the first minute you stare at the object wondering what’s being played, but your curiosity takes over quickly and before you know it, they’re coming over your ears. You don’t regret it the second you hear his voice.

The music begins to travel through the speakers, you become obsessed with it from the very first track. You love that it’s similar to his original sound, but it isn’t the same track over and over again. They’re all so different yet so him. You can hear and feel the amount of dedication and effort he put into it. Like it wasn’t done out of obligation, but because he wanted to do it for himself. You can’t help but get up and sway your hips to the music.

You feel so connected to him through his work, and that’s why you go on and on about how you wish he’d make another mixtape because this shit is fire. You wonder how long he’s been hiding it from the world.

You aren’t expecting him to be sitting on the bed when you turn around. Your hand finds your chest and you lower the volume on the headset.

“How long have you been sitting there? You fucking scared me.”

He shrugs. “Long enough to know that I want that dress off of you.”

Your startled expression turns smug. “Oh, really?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“So…you want me to take it off?” You raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to have to use your words with me if you want something.”

Yoongi’s arms fold at his chest; his white tee strains against his beefiness. You remember how his clothes used to swallow him, but now he’s filling them up quite nicely, if you may. Either way, he looks good. It’s just a natural trait he possesses.

“I mean either you can take it off or you can leave. Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs his shoulders.

If you weren’t horny just looking at him sitting there in his boxers, you’d call his bluff. But you’ve already picked up on his stubbornness and you know better than to try him. “Fine.”

You sigh as you drag down the straps of your dress, rolling your eyes when he tells you to slow down. You flip your hair and twirl your body as you wiggle the fabric down your hips, turning around in the opposite direction to give him a peek at your derriere.

Looking over your shoulder, you notice how his face becomes etched with approval. You give yourself a silent applaud for selecting this piece. You’re sure your thong leaves nothing for his imagination. It also doesn’t help that you’re topless.

You stop torturing him and turn around so he can see the front.

“Damn,” is all he can say.

You take off your heels before walking towards him and his eyes never leave your breasts the entire journey, even once you’re standing between his legs, preparing to straddle his lap.

“I want you.” You tell him as if he doesn’t already know.

Yoongi’s hands find your waist while you place your knees on the bed. As soon as you’re on his lap, you can feel his bulge threatening to burst out of his underwear. It’d be so simple to pull your panties aside and milk him for everything he has, but not tonight. He’s the one who owes you a good fucking.

“How badly?”

His lips find your skin and make their way to your tits, making you clutch onto his damp curly strands while he sucks and tugs on your sensitive nipples. Your hands tug his hair, and you force him to look at your face.

“Yoongi. You’re either going to fuck me or I’m going to fuck you. What’s it going to be—”

He scoops you up and drops you on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise. The dark gleam in his orbs has your thighs rubbing and your fists clinging onto the comforter. He's finally had enough, and hopefully he doesn’t hold back anymore.

“You asked for this,” he warns you and you almost giggle with glee. He pulls his shirt over his head and is about to toss it somewhere, but then he changes his mind. Yoongi looks at you for a moment, contemplating before he speaks. “You trust me, right?”

“Well, I came home with you even though you hate me, didn’t I?...Why do you ask?”

“So a lot or a little?”

You groan.

He chuckles and you feel the butterflies once again. Yoongi turns the volume up on his laptop before holding up a thumb to ask if it is too loud. Honestly, you’re glad it tuned him out because though you understand that safety is first, there’s little you wouldn’t try when it comes to this man. You’ve been waiting as patiently as you could to experience this and you’re ready to get started.

You nod and his devilish smirk is the last thing you see before he throws his shirt over your head. Darkness fills your vision but it doesn’t bother you as long as his voice is filling your ears. His cold hands slide up your thighs and spread them, wasting no time in touching your slightly sodden underwear.

Gasps escape your lips when his finger presses gently on your clit, and you can only hope the sound isn’t too awkward since you cannot hear yourself.

The bed dips so you assume he’s climbing on and you release a breath when you feel his lips hovering over your body. He leaves kisses between your breasts and he doesn’t stop until your lace panties prevent him from accessing any more skin.

Yoongi quickly slides them off, leaving lying on his bed completely naked. Everything from the moment when his tongue dips into your center is one feverish bliss. Your back arches, your toes curl, and your fingers entangle in his hair. The sounds you’re making are probably feral and of an obnoxious volume but Yoongi doesn’t bother to shush you or stop his sinful movements.

He draws circles over your throbbing clit with his tongue, moving in the same motion as you do as you swivel your hips. This song has you in the mood to grind your pussy on his face, and that’s entirely his fault for coming up with such vulgar lyrics. It’s filthy and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening by the seconds. You scream his name over and over but he just keeps going until you release the pressure built up inside of you.

The shirt is snatched off your face as you’re at your peak and what you see between your thighs only intensifies your orgasm. His face is buried in your heat, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and nibbling gently while you squirm in his iron grip.

Yoongi kisses your inner thighs once you begin to calm down to help you relax. When you back slowly droop onto the bed is when he carefully removes the headphones, turning them off and then setting them on the nightstand next to his laptop.

“I would go back for seconds, but that would only make me want more,” he tells you. He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out some condoms then throws them on the bed.

“I don’t know if I’d survive that.”

“Well, you better say a prayer because we aren’t done,” he laughs and excitement bubbles inside of you.

Yoongi switches the music to something else and you can’t help but pout.

You sigh. “I pray you aren’t all talk.”

He glares at you for your comment and steps closer to the bed.

“You’re a sweet girl, but…” he flips you on your stomach and pulls you up by the waist, positioning you so that your ass and pussy are directly in his line of sight, “you need to watch how you fucking speak to me.”

A shriek leaves your lips when he slaps your ass. “Yoongi…please.”

“Please? You want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice is high pitched and shaky, almost unrecognizable to your ears. “Don’t stop, please.”

Yoongi finds humor in your desperation. “Ask me nicely.”

“Fuck,” you whine but it’s the wrong answer. “Yoongi, please do it again.”

“No.”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

“I said no.”.

“Such a fucking asshole,” you mumble insults, thinking they’re too low for him to hear.

“What was that?”

You look behind you and notice Yoongi rolling a condom over his dick. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of those veiny hands stroking his cock slowly, preparing himself to dive into your wetness. You’ve always wondered what he looked like doing that, ever since that time on the phone.

“Nothing,” you lie.

He puts his knee on the bed and inches closer to you. You tease him by wiggling your ass a little but he places a hand on your hip to still you. “You know…”

You can feel his cock against your entrance and your body pushes back on him to try and get it inside of you yourself. However, your impatience makes you forget how petty the man behind you really is.

The tip slips past your folds and with the amount of arousal seeping from your opening, he’s able to slide in with ease. But it’s only a taste; the majority of his cock still remains outside of you, and quickly your frustration takes control of you.

“If you wanna meet an asshole…” he makes a loud gasp leave your lips when he, without warning, slams into your pussy in one smooth motion. You whimper; a harsh snatch of your hair makes you wince and grip the sheets. Your head is turned in an uncomfortable position, but the only thing you can focus on is the intensity of the stretch and the way his dick doesn’t leave any room to spare, “I could introduce you to one.”

Yoongi pushes your head forward and pins you to the mattress. Your teeth grit together because of your sensitivity. You could come just like this without him even moving. That’s how worked up you still are. You just need a moment to pull yourself together, but Yoongi doesn’t have the patience for that.

“Arch your fucking back.”

He pulls out but swiftly snaps back into you, causing you to let out a squeak. You try to cover your mouth but his large hand comes down on your ass before you can do so. Your moans turn into screams within minutes, increasing in volume each time Yoongi slaps your rear.

“I know you can do better than that. Straighten up before I do it for you,” he grunts through the lewd skin-slapping noises that fill the room.

You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back like he demands. The position is only uncomfortable for a few seconds, but eventually it becomes familiar and the sensitivity ebbs away.

Yoongi lets go of your hair and starts rubbing his hands all over your ass, kneading the reddened flesh and giving it words of appreciation.

When you start to fuck him back he holds your waist and pulls you back on his cock. Your body begins to move naturally with the rhythm of the background music and he allows you to set the pace while he whispers obscene remarks.

“Look at you taking it just like a whore.”

You can feel the arousal between your thighs, dripping and making a mess of the sheets. The squelching sounds are disgusting but don’t phase you in this heated moment. You have more important things to worry about. Like how long you’ll be able to keep this up. You weren’t expecting him to have this much stamina, but you’ve learned to never judge a book by the cover.

He’s strong, the grip he has on you is evidence to that. The way he’s handling you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy he can use at his discretion has you clenching around his dick. His deep chuckle fills the room when he feels your walls tighten.

“On your next podcast, you should tell them how I fucked your brains out to your own playlist,” he comments.

Yoongi’s thrusts have your knees trembling and nearly giving out, but he’s quick to assure that you keep up. “No fucking slacking, whore. Do better or I’ll pull out and use your throat instead.”

You’re sure your ass will be sore in the morning because Yoongi cannot keep his hands off of it. He strikes you every chance he gets and the stinging sensation from his blows push you closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck. Yoongi…please.”

Tears roll down your cheek when his cock travels deeper, touching the spot that makes you unravel at the seams. It’s all too much and you beg him to allow you to surrender to the pleasure.

“Not yet. Shit, do you have any idea how juicy your ass looks like this?”

“But I can’t,” you sob into the comforter.

A slap to your left cheek leaves you a shaky mess. However, he shows you no mercy and does the same thing to the other side.

“That’s not an option. If you come, I swear—”

“Sorry…” Your muffled cries are the last thing you can recall before your body accidentally gives in.

Your juices leak onto the bed while you hold on for dear life, afraid you’ll float away if you let go of the fabric. But just as your orgasm reaches its peak, it’s ripped away from you by one of the foulest humans on this planet.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he growls as he drags you off the bed. Yoongi forces you to your knees, ignoring your pleas to regain what was stolen from you. He slaps your cheek a few times, snapping you back into reality and demanding your attention. “Answer me!”

“You…You told me not to come,” you hiccup.

His expression tells you how displeased he is, but it’s too bad that you don’t care. Something comes over you that has you sucking it up and wiping your tears. If he wants to play dirty, you can do it too.

“So why did you?...I never said that you could.”

You look up at him with innocent eyes. However, you have no intentions on being good anymore.

“Because it felt good and I wanted to,” you tell him and he grabs your face.

“You don’t get to decide what you want to do or what feels good. If you had the answers you wouldn’t have been begging for my dick for two years.”

Yoongi pulls off the condom and brings his cock to your mouth. You clench your fist to hold back the excitement when he tells you to open. You’ve craved the taste of him even though you’ve never had him. Your mouth waters as you wait for him to enter, and when he does, he doesn’t stop until reaches the back of your throat.

“Tap my thigh if you need air, and do not suck until I tell you to, understand?”

You mumble around him as best as you can. “Mmhm.”

Before you can prepare yourself for a pace you know will be relentless, Yoongi withdraws and slowly re-enters your crevice. Your eyes roll back from the fullness and addicting taste of him. You want more—need more to fulfill your desire.

Ignoring his instructions, you enclose your lips around him and begin to suck him in each time he tries to pull out. “Easy,” he warns but you keep going.

One of your hands comes up to fondle his balls and Yoongi’s deep moans begin to fill your ears. He throws his head back in pleasure while you give him, what you would consider, the best blowjob of his life. The sound he produces is the only music you want to hear. His voice holds so much lust and bass, arousal gushes from your cunt as a result.

“Fuck, I told you not to do that.”

You hum around him, sending vibrations up his shaft. The feeling brings him to his senses and he places both his hands on your head. You have to grab onto his thighs to keep yourself steady since he’s starting to take control. You try to maintain the suction but his wild movements make it impossible.

“You wanted to suck me off so badly. Keep it up,” he grunts, increasing his speed.

You choke on his dick and the sounds make him twitch in your mouth. Yoongi starts to intentionally go deeper, but he’s unsatisfied by the lack of space there is for him.

He pulls out of you, leaving you coughing and gasping at the sudden intake of air.

“Well, damn. Do I have to teach you how to suck dick too?”

Yoongi shakes his head as he looks down on you then uses his index and middle finger to open your mouth. He pushes the digits in and finds the back of your mouth with ease, pressing on the back of your tongue to make you open wider. “Stop being shy and open this pretty fucking mouth,” he demands, making you gag on his fingers.

Your eyes water and spit drips down your chin. You must look like a complete mess, but Yoongi cannot take his eyes off of you.

“Now show me, and I’ll give you some more.”

You’re scolded before you can even wrap your lips around his fingers.

“Stop being fucking lazy.” He gives your cheek a few more slaps before shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth.

This time you slurp and allow your saliva to coat his digits. ”Fucking, right. Now open up and milk this dick.”

Yoongi removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. This time you just open your mouth and let him in. He uses your head like a fleshlight and drills into you at a rapid speed. You try your best to keep eye contact and breath through your nose, but then out of nowhere he buries his cock down your throat.

There’s an intense burning in your airways due to lack of oxygen but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The rush takes you so high you become slightly lightheaded, sending a tingling sensation straight to your center. Nothing but music, the sound of you choking on his dick, and his sound of pleasure can be heard and the way he calls your name sends your ego through the roof.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Stay just like this, sweetheart.”

Within five long thrusts, his warm seed deposits on your tastebuds. You try to swallow everything but he pulls out quickly and empties the rest on your lips and chin. Your tongue tries to gather as much as you can, but some places are impossible to reach.

“Come here.” Yoongi pulls you from the floor and brings you closer, greeting you with a sloppy kiss once you’re on your feet. He laps up all the cum on your face and gathers it all on his tongue before he feeds it to you. You savor the taste of both of you as the kiss prolongs, and even after he pulls away you can’t help but remember how good he tasted.

If you had to guess which body part Yoongi favors the most, you’d say it was your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from them. You bite them, he shudders. You lick them, his cock twitches. So you can’t control yourself when it comes to teasing him and pressing them against his soft skin.

“You must want another round if you keep that up,” he mentions as you make your way to his earlobe. You nibble on it gently before you whisper in his ear.

“I just wanna come one more time before you kick me out.”

“Who said I was kicking you out?”

“You aren’t?”

Yoongi ushers you to his bed and helps you lie down before he joins you. He hovers over you once again and his hand snakes between your thighs.

“I definitely am, but not right now. I’m not done with you,” he informs, fingers entering your heat while his thumb caresses your clit.

“Well, hurry up then.”

He frowns. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Yeah, whenever someone has the balls to make me shut up—”

“Interesting,” he states after his hand pins your neck to the mattress. “Let’s test that theory.”

Yoongi’s digits begin to move in and out of your wetness, producing more lewd noises and causing your body to shake with sensitivity.

“Yoongi.”

His name flows past your lips like water. It’s the only word you can think of at the moment. Having been worked up all this time with no relief makes you desperate to satisfy the lingering desire that’s settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Feels good, huh?”

It feels damn good. Your hips buck off the bed to match his movements so you can chase your high. “Yes…more.”

“More?”

His hand tightens its grip and restricts your air supply. He knows how close to the edge it takes you by now and he doesn’t hesitate to use it against you.

“Say please and I’ll make you come all over my fingers,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t respond like this.

You try to speak, but everything gets trapped in your throat. You can only claw at his chest, begging him to guide you to your release. He loosens his grip and through your coughs you manage to give him the answer he wants.

“Please. I can’t take it.”

Yoongi gives you a fake pout, squeezing your face between his fingers. “But you can…watch this.”

His fingers curl inside of you and you’re seeing stars. Your nails dig into his arm, body arching off the bed due to the intense wave of pleasure that hits you. You try to run, but he pins you down and forces you to accept the mind-blowing orgasm you were begging for.

“You talked a bunch of shit, now back it up, love,” Yoongi tells you while your walls clench around him. His hand covers your mouth, preventing your screams from waking up the neighbors as if it isn’t already too late for that. “Let’s see if this cunt’s worth the headache.”

The coil snaps and your body stiffens. Yoongi’s deep voice continues to degrade you as your juices squirt all over his bed. Even though you cry out from the sensitivity he fucks you until the last drop. Your body just falls on the bed once he’s done with you, and you move into a fetal position when he carefully slides out his fingers.

The aftershock of your release has you twitching, but the bliss you feel is superior. This is what it feels like to get fucked out, and you knew he would be the person to deliver. Satisfied would be an understatement because you weren’t expecting to be stuck like this after you were done. Usually, you’re able to get up and go before they can return from the bathroom, but tonight you can only lay there in silence while Yoongi cleans you up with a warm cloth.

“I didn’t break you, huh?”

“The opposite, actually,” you laugh weakly.

“Good.” He lays his body beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, enjoying the familiar beat that plays into the dark room. It’s your phone sex song; the beat he played to help you relax. “Remember this?”

“Yeah, how can I forget?”

“You keep saying that like I’m always on your mind.”

“Maybe you are,” you reply.

A soft scoff comes from behind you. “I hope you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

There’s silence, then eventually a long sigh.

“I want you gone before I wake up, okay?”

You shake your head. Not in disbelief because it’s what you expected, but because he can’t read between the lines. But you aren’t naïve and you know when someone wants you just as bad as you want them. So for now, you’ll be patient.

“Fair enough,” you answer.

Satisfied, he rolls over and drifts off into sleep, leaving you awake to wallow in your thoughts. It seemed best to just get up and leave then, but it takes nearly an hour to regain your strength. And just when you think it’s safe for you to slip away and consider this night one of the good memories, the warmth you felt before returns and pulls you closer—it is then that your eyes become heavy and you submit to the comfort you know you aren’t supposed to have.

When Yoongi wakes up and finds a cold empty bed, he can only throw his head back in frustration. He hopes…no, he prays he didn’t say anything to make you feel like he wasn’t interested. He knows he can be a dick, but he was just pissed and horny last night. You’re not easy to handle, but he likes that about you. You aren’t afraid to put him in his place.

He rolls out of bed and the first thing he notices is that his laptop is still playing music, so he makes turning it off his first task. However, once he enters the password, he finds an opened document with a typed note in the center of the page.

If you ever think of me, just call...If you want?

Yoongi’s speechless, and out of his damn mind. That’s the only excuse he has for picking up his phone and calling the number you left at 9 am in the damn morning. The longer the phone rings, the more regret fills him. He can’t help but think you left that there to tease him for calling you so quickly. He tries to hang up but before he can remove the phone from his ear the ringing stops and your beautiful voice blesses him once again.

“Hello?”

He panics, and doesn’t respond. He searches the room frantically and finds his excuse lying on the floor right in front of him.

“Yeah, you left your earring. Looks expensive,” he murmurs before he clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m wearing both of mine now. Must be for someone else.”

Embarrassment washes over him as he stands there naked in his bedroom. How could he be so stupid? That thing’s probably months old, if not longer. He wonders if you saw it. Maybe that’s why you left.

“I’m kidding, Yoongi. If it’s a gold hoop, it’s mine,” you laugh and he feels a weight left from his shoulders.

The idea of you finding stuff that belongs to other women in his home doesn’t put a good feeling in his chest. He also doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who lets anyone in his home because he’s not that kind of guy.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” he says once your giggles cease.

“And you’re sarcastic.”

Still sharp as hell. He thinks to himself.

“Whatever.” He takes a seat on his bed and rests his back against the headboard while he checks emails on his laptop and uses small talk to melt away the awkwardness. “So…you left in a hurry, huh?”

Smooth.

“You told me you wanted me gone before you woke up, remember?”

Of course, he did. Because he’s an idiot.

“Yeah, I was just fucking with you, though. I would have given you a ride or something, you know.”

“No worries. I made it to my hotel room safely,” you assure and he releases a sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s good. Glad to hear that.”

“Mmhm, miss me already, huh?...too bad you kicked me out.”

“Honestly, I thought I was gonna wake up to some tits in my face, but that’s fair.”

There’s some shuffling in the background like you’re moving something, but he doesn’t ask any questions about it.

“Can you remember anything from last night?” you ask him after a beat of silence.

His fingers run through his hair as he thinks about all the filthy images replaying in his mind.

“Well yeah, I remember you, of course. You were fucking incredible. But everything after that moment was a blur. Please don’t tell me I did something stupid.”

“No, you’re good. I had fun.”

So did he. He wishes it’d happen again, and again. “And you’re okay too, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My ass is sore and I can barely sit down, but I feel good. Thanks for that.”

Thank heavens you are. He knows how rough he was and most women aren’t into that but you took it and enjoyed it. You were fun to play with, and now his cock twitches at the thought of what your ass must look like now, covered in his marks.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine, love. Bummed about having to work, but I’m good,” he responds.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry I kept you up when you have to work this morning.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I enjoyed your company, and…”

He almost told you that he missed you, but caught himself at the last minute.

“And what?”

“Uhh, nothing,” he gulps. “I was reading something…Forgot what I was going to say.”

“O’kay.”

Yoongi can tell by the sound of your voice that you don’t buy it.

“Yup,” is all he can say in response.

After a minute or two of both of you just holding the phone, you finally say something to keep the conversation going. “Yoongi?”

“Hm…”

“Are you busy right now or…?”

He places his laptop beside him because he can assure that whatever he has to do isn’t as important as this.

“No, what’s up?”

“Well, it’s about last night,” you admit.

Now, he’s kind of nervous. What else happened while he was in his post orgasmic bliss.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi stays on the line waiting patiently for your answer, and it’s one he doesn’t expect.

“Well, you still owe me, you know?”

Interesting.

“And what do you mean by that?” he questions.

“Well…”

Yoongi already knows where this is going and luckily he knows exactly how to handle this situation. “Not satisfied, are you, baby?”

“No, I am. But…”

He chuckles. “You want some more?”

“If it isn't too much trouble. And if you have time, of course.”

You’re as sly as a fox and you know how to get what you want. It’s hot, but he’s going to have to humble you before he does anything else.

“No trouble at all, baby. Do me a favor, and spread your legs for me.”

“Okay.”

He hears some more movement and then you return, prepared to do anything he tells you in the hopes of pleasuring yourself. You tell him once you’re ready and he provides you with more instructions, in which you follow without question.

“Now, facetime me and place the phone between your thighs so I can see your pretty pussy.”

Within a second, his phone notifies him of an incoming facetime call. He answers it and finds you sitting in your hotel room. You’re wearing a large shirt but he can still see the fresh blooms from where he took your skin between his teeth the night before creeping up your neck. He can’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face.

He curses when he sees your cunt, all glistening and wet with your juices. His mouth waters but he pushes his filthy thoughts in the back of his mind.

“This is what you’re going to do,” he starts, watching in awe as strings of arousal snap while you’re scissoring yourself in his presence, “...you’re going to imagine me fucking your brains out and you’re gonna use that image to get yourself off…without me.”

“Yoongi—”

He tsks. “I’m not your man, and making you come is not my job, baby.”

“But…”

If he gave a fuck, he’d break hearing how desperate and needy your voice sounds, but you need to understand that he isn’t going to come every time you call for him. He’s a busy man and he doesn’t need distractions.

“But nothing…Now, bye. Have fun.”

He hangs up just as you start to curse at him and yell into the phone. But he knows this isn’t over; you’re probably getting a ride over to his place right now, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

You were able to just walk out of here this morning without even waking him. That doesn’t sit right with him, and there’s only one solution for it really—

He’s just going to have to fuck you harder during round two…

And maybe, just maybe…get to know you a little bit after.

We’ll see.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts x reader #suga x reader #suga smut #bangtanbathhouse #festivaledaway #bangtansorciere #btsdreamcourt #yoongi imagine #bts imagines #yoongi fanfics #bts fanfics #sugakookitty

2K notes · View notes

sylvaridreams · 3 months

Text

I'm going to try and word this better than I did at 1 am venting on cohost last night, and maybe slightly gentler. I haven't finished the SotO update from yesterday. I got home, played for a couple of hours, did some meta on the current map, triiiiied to get myself to go back to story... and I couldn't.

I was BORED. It was quite honestly boring. Any dialogue that matters is Peitha talking to her people. I am a stage prop that occasionally vocalizes expositional questions and fires arrows at grunt mobs.

I could physically feel myself losing any remaining interest in the story as I clicked "what does this mean? What do you think of Peitha's plan?" type questions (which offer a poor illusion of choice in conversation. Look! Dialogue options! You can click all of these in any order you like but you must click them all!)

Why should I care about this story? I'm being brought along as the muscle that Peitha doesn't really need. I'm not offering anything special I'm terms of skill. I'm not an invaluable resource. I'm not even being utilized as the leader that gw2 has ALWAYS made me! It's always been "You're out there leading the armies, commanding all the way from the front line to the supply chains!" Now I'm just kind of around. Run a few events and come back. Characters refer to me and I apparently have no in-game response. MY CHARACTER doesn't seem invested.

And so many new characters. Every drop, it's like, have a bunch more named people! I was learning names during drop 1, and know some of the Wizards off the top of my head, but honestly I’m not bothering anymore. Why should I? Even if Nexus isn't killed off in the next chapter I play, I'm never going to meet this character again after he stops serving the story.

And where IS the story? Where is the meat? Drop 1 was at least interesting to me. Secret society hiding demons from the Commander. Getting sucked into this strange and horrifying place. Getting the life beat out of Alba by a hulking, terrifying demon and crawling away in fear. Escaping into the arms of strangers and getting this unknown voice in Alba's head, talking to him, saying what he wanted to hear, teasing him. Him refusing to tell anyone she was in there, because he *trusted this unknown voice in his head over all these strangers.* The story lulled a lot and it wasn't like... prime gw2 content. But it had a few hooks. When in Amnytas, Alba GASPED "Peitha!" right outside of the next story step and said "I can *see* you," and I turned my camera and saw what I knew, what Alba had to have suspected, confirmed. That there was a demon using his mind as a lounge. THAT was a moment, it was SOMETHING!

At least it was fun at points, at least there was some small amount of intrigue and mystery. And from there it was all just, "take a backseat, Wayfinder. This isn't YOUR story." I'm getting nothingburger bites out of each new story drop. Oh we went into Nayos to take the fight to them and killed Peitha's model reskin cousin. Anything else that drop? Anything? No but next time we recruited some general to fight with us! Can I get a smidgen of story? Something to hang onto? The only thing this drop that hasn't been "Don't care didn't ask plus I've seen your character model elsewhere" was Alba being called "that ugly creature" by a kryptis.

That's all I've got. I'm not enjoying it. I don't like SotO. And it is not for lack of trying it, it's not because i just don't like change and don't wanna see something new and different! This expansion feels like an empty parody of Guild Wars 2, and it feels like a slap in the face to anyone who was invested in Tyria. Pre-release they really hyped up that "It's time for new places and new people! We're gonna get a new cast and explore a vast new world!" I CARED about that world, which we still had SO MUCH left to explore. Are the borders of the map even the ends of the world of Tyria or does it keep going? Who cares. There's shit going on above the clouds. I cared about those CHARACTERS. Does Alba get to see people that he loves and cares about ever again? Is he making it to the wedding? Does he get a chance to go home and see anyone? Like yes we are not chained up in the Tower between instances, we can still play the game in those old maps, but the characters have been written out of the story.

And frankly these new ones are shitty replacements. I don't care about these people. I maybe had some small amount of "OK cool its Zojja I know her!" but it's not like I had any deep care or feeling for her. Not personally. Peitha was interesting at first but being brought along as part of her nameless, faceless grunt entourage has made me lose a lot of interest. She's not going to be a core character post-SotO. She either dies at the end, or takes over as King, and at best becomes a very occasional callback. "Ah, King Peitha! It's been some time, how is Nayos!" She's not going to reclaim the throne and then ignore rebuilding her people's infrastructure to hang out in Commander’s brain all day or join them on quests. We are a temporary ally and a stepping stone for her story.

Which sucks.

In terms of the rest of the SotO cast, it again feels like a pale imitation of prior Gw2 content. Like they're saying "remember season 1, meeting all those people one by one who would become your best friends and allies in life? 🤔 " and then they didn't even do it that way. Season 1 was a gradual introduction to these characters that you were given time, story, and Reason to care about. If Braham, Rox, Marjory, Kasmeer, Taimi, Rytlock, and Canach had all shown up and said "oh we're the Best Friends Patrol. Come along with us stranger!" I would have felt like a tag along. Not an equal in the group. Instead we met on level ground. We became a team together, we became friends together, each of us a vital part.

Which is opposite to how it feels now. These characters have deep history going back AGES. I just showed up, no one respects me, I'm not privy to any information or details on who is who and why should I care, I don't Get story time to ACTUALLY hang out and meet these people and develop my OWN relationships with them. When I leave, they will not care. I'm just being brought along like a lost kid at this point, until we reach customer service and they can drop me off, or until I wander away and find another deep group to follow.

I don't like this story. I don't like the setting. I don't like the characters or the group dynamic. I don't feel like an EQUAL in this expansion, I don't feel like I matter. Anyone could stand here and ask supporting questions to drive the dialogue between the 2-3 characters that actually matter, which again, does not include me.

And FRANKLY I hate that no one can say anything that isn't glowing praise of GW2 and Anet and every little detail is just scrumptious don't worry I love it, without a bunch of vague posts filtering in about "so much Negativity, everyone is a HATER, you just don't support The Writers and want them to FAIL, well then stop playing the game and delete your account and blog and go away forever, REAL fans LOVE nothingburger" to shun whoever dared say "I didn't like some or all of it." I'm happy for you if you're liking SotO but I am not. I'm sorry if you don't understand that criticizing something that I've played for a decade doesn't mean I hate it. I'm sorry if you can't take the MILD CONFLICT of me or someone else saying "I love this thing that you love too but I don't like how the new part feels" but most of us learned about conflict in kindergarten or at least through children's picture books and TV, so idk. Maybe you just need to cope at that point.

As it stands I don't like the expac. I don't see Anet turning it around and blowing my mind with the ending. And I really don't even care how it ends. I was asked the other day "how are you going to handle Peitha?" (in terms of the canon that I write, which has already moved past the end of SotO.) And frankly I was like. I dunno. It doesn't matter to me. She's either dead or on the throne, I don't care much either way. We could get the huge plot twist at the end that Peitha was the big bad or Isgarren or WHOEVER THE FUCK, and I wouldn't care. None of this matters to me. I'm going back to Tyria with my writing. The rest is filler.

#soto spoilers #gw2 spoilers

70 notes · View notes

mandomaterial · 1 year

Text

Forgotten pt.6

Pairing: Tonowari x Metkayina!reader

Wordcount: 3.4K

Warnings: slightly feral mc, needles, humans, and i think that’s it. Maybe a little angst?

Notes: sorry that this took so long- i had a little bitta writers block… but i think this is a nice chapter btw the new guy is an oc so he isn’t in the avatar franchise :3 please leave some suggestions about what should happen to the reader.and ill try to update every week or so! Pics not mine, credit to the owners!

Masterlist /// Previous /// Next

Over the next few days the young human boy, Spider visited you every day. The two of you talked about anything and everything, it was very comforting to have someone around that spoke your language.

You were curious about him, so you asked lots of intricate questions. Why was he here? What’s his connection to the forest Na’vi? How did he speak your language so well, he even had a forest accent.

He answered most of them with enthusiasm. Telling you the story of him spending a lot of time with the sully kids and growing up in the Omatikaya clan, being there for all the events and learning their ways.

Spider explained that his father had been killed by Jake Sully's mate, Neytiri, in the first sky people war, but scientists had made an avatar for him a few years ago and inserted a chip that had a copy of his father's mind on it. You truly struggled to grasp the concept so he tried to explain it like he was reborn into the new avatar body after his death, when he died, but he was already twenty years old; you understood better but it still confused you at times.

Spider also tried asking you simple questions first and when you answered all of them he started coming out of his shell; starting to ask bolder questions. He asked about your family and your life as tsakìk of the Metkayina. How was your life different from the forest people’s? What were the animals like? What did you eat?

You happily started telling him stories of the metkayina traditions and the Iknimaya, where you had to bond with a tsurak and complete several trials with your spirit sibling to earn your place amongst the people. Even telling him that you struggled immensely when you had to bond with the wild beast and that you preferred the tasks with your spirit sister a lot more.

You told him many stories about you and your sister, Ronal, when you were training to become tsahìk; how much trouble you’d get yourself in with her, doing whatever teenagers did. Your favorite ones though were the ones where she’d cover for you when you snuck away with the handsome, brave, and charming young man you’d had a crush on; once you’d gotten caught with him past your curfew and your father threatened him for at least half an hour and scared him half to death. You giggled as you remembered. You continued that that boy was now your mate and father of your children.

He in return asked about your children, being curious about them. Starting with your eldest, your son A'onung, you described him as a brave troublemaker; he always hung out with his friends and was very caring toward his sister, even if he didn’t like showing it. A'onung loved his spirit brother as well and they’d spend a lot of time together once the tulkun returned.

Spider continued asking about your daughter; Tsireya. You started by telling him that she was a truly good-hearted and beautiful young lady who loved dancing and performing. She’s always be a performer when the tribe held celebrations or spiritual rituals. From time to time, you would teach her how to prepare medical remedies or how to lead sacred rituals. She was growing up so quickly and from what you’d seen, she had her eye on the youngest sully boy; Lo'ak.

Once you said that spider instantly asked how the sully's were doing. It didn’t surprise you, after all, they were kind of his family. You thought about it for a few seconds and then decided to tell him about how Lo'ak and A'onung went outside the reef. You’d never been so angry at A'onung in your life! Leading the poor boy out and stranding him there; who knows what could have happened? But after that little stunt, the boys seemed to get along better- even going as far as to say that they had become friends.

Next was the story about how Jake learned to ride a tsurak. It took a while because he didn’t want to start with an ilu; it would have hurt his pride too much. You both giggled. Jake had tried to tie his hand to the saddle grip but even that failed and he was left with some nasty leather burns. Spider confirmed that to Jake, like all men, his pride was one of the most important things.

Neytiri was a skilled warrior; so she decided to join the hunters. At first, she was just tasked with catching fish, but she wanted to hunt something bigger. So she forcefully made her place known amongst the others when she came back with a quite large deep-sea creature.

Spider and you talked for hours upon hours almost every day until you sent him off to bed. Then you were let alone in the dark room, having no items of comfort to keep you company. You thought about asking Spider for a few things, but you didn’t want to get him in trouble so you kept your lips sealed.

In the dark, the only thing that plagued your mind was your old life. The life you had just a little while ago. Oh how you wished you could return; not even getting the chance to tell your mate that you were with child again. What would happen if you didn’t return? How would you return? Your heart clenched and you placed your hand on your lower abdomen gently, hoping to comfort yourself and your baby as you tried to sleep.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After you had sent Spider away, he decided to go talk to his father again. He’d seen how miserable you were in that tiny cell; you’d always curl up in a corner, trying to keep warm in the night. His mind was troubled with thoughts and just as he turned the corner to his father’s quarters, he bumped into someone. He looked up, wanting to apologize, and saw the familiar figure.

“Whatcha' doin' here kid?” Quaritch questioned while placing his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, and giving his son a questioning look.

“Uh- well… I wanted to talk to you,” he answered, “about the different room…”

Spider awkwardly moved his arms from side to side, looking away, not knowing what to do.

“Heh- I was just about to tell you the news,” he chuckled “I talked to some people and uuuh- told them to move her closer so that I can ‘keep an eye on her’” his fingers did little air quotes as he said it with a light mocking tone in his voice.

Spider's eyes lit up just a bit and he gave his father a genuine smile “Thanks Dad”

“No problem, kiddo” Quaritch sighed, a good feeling bubbling inside him at the thought of making his son happy; truly a strange feeling. He watched as Spider shuffled away, looking over his shoulder back at him, once or twice, cracking a smile as he turned the corner.

Spider had a little spring in his step; he couldn’t wait to tell you tomorrow! He continued thinking about what else he could do to bring you comfort. Maybe he’d ask what your favorite food was and get it when he joined his father on a mission again or he could ask if you’d like to do something like weaving or seeing, he could easily find the materials for that.

He finally wanted to see you smile; he wanted to see you happy for a change.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The morning came and you were blinded by the bright light flickering on in the cell; same as ever. You tried to shield your eyes by covering them with your arm, trying to get a little more rest. Just then a wave of despair washed over you. You wanted to go home; you wanted to return to your family; to your children.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over the edge and rolling down your cheeks. You tried rubbing them away but that only man’s it worse; all your locked-up feelings spilled over. Sitting up you curled up against the wall, not knowing what to do. Would they ever let you go? Would you have to stay in this horrible room forever? These thoughts made your heart crack and crumble. You tried so hard to stay strong; for yourself and the little life growing within your body, but it was all for nothing. Nothing had changed and you don’t even know for how long you’d been kept here. Too long. Something needed to change.

Suddenly your anguish turned to anger; it was like a feral beast woke inside you. Pushing yourself up to your feet you, took a few steps around the room, observing it once more like the thousands of times you’d done before, your tails swishing dangerously behind you. The room had one wall that looked different, similar to the water, you could see your reflection. It was so clear and you’d never seen something like it before. There had to be a reason why it was there. Could something be behind it? You couldn’t know for sure but as you walked closer and closer, you’d started bearing your fangs and claws. Just like that, you charged against the wall, banging your fists on it.

Little sounds came from behind the wall. Hah- so there was something there and you’d given it quite a scare. You continued, trying to get more reactions from the thing that hid behind the wall. This went on for quite a while until you heard the mechanical door open. Thinking it was the human boy, you lowered your guard. Big mistake. Six human soldiers came in and you started hissing again, taking a defensive stance. They walked over with hurried steps, taking your personal space. As one tried to touch you you pushed him away, sending him flying across the room. The others made quick pace and tried binding your wrists. You were busy shoving off two humans as a third grabbed your arm and fastened the orange cuff. Knowing what would come next you tried to get them all off you, never holding your hands close in fear of them being bound again.

It was no use, soon someone grabbed your second arm and pulled it behind your back, forcing the second cuff around your wrist, locking them together. You yelled and screamed as you tried to escape their clutches only to feel a sharp sting on the side of your neck. Suddenly you felt ever so drowsy, your eyes closing as if you had no control over them. Sinking to the floor, calming down you saw that the humans circled around you, talking. Then your eyelids fell shut and you lost consciousness.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As soon as you had lost consciousness the soldiers calmed down. “So uh- what are we supposed to do with her now?” one asked. “They told us to just knock her out before something happens- wait a sec il call someone.” another answered. While he talked the others observed you. You looked different from the recoms; you were a lighter color and had a different body. They all looked at you weirdly, one even nudging you with their foot until they heard their colleague hang up the phone.

“I asked around and the lab rats said that they wanna have her, so I guess we’ll bring her there,” he claimed while shrugging his shoulders. “You two, go get a cart to load her up. I ain’t carrying that thing.”

Just as told, two left and came back a few minutes later with some sort of transportation device. They parked it next to you and awkwardly tried to lift you onto it. Finally, they managed by holding you under your arms and dragging you over the rough surface, scratching your back as they did so. When you were finally on the cart the first man turned around and motioned for the others to follow him. It wasn’t long until the group reached the large metal door that closed off the science lab from the outside.

One of the soldiers went up to the touchpad, silently punching in the code to make the door open. The cart wasn’t pushed in first, being followed by the other men. They’d not been here often and this place always put them on edge, for they didn’t know what would happen. Your turquoise skin glistened under the fluorescent lights of the lab, pulling all the attention towards you.

Just then a tall scientist in a pristine long white lab coat came into view.

The head scientist rubbed his hands together with glee as he looked at the unconscious Na'vi. "This is it," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "This is what we've been waiting for.” he looked around the little crowd of soldiers “Thanks for bringing her here, dismissed.”

They all gave him a little salute, turning to walk out again, but the last one of the group gave the scientists a dirty look. They shouldn’t be taking orders from a nerdy lab rat, he scoffed silently.

The man was still standing over you, inspecting your physical form. You’d been the first Na’vi of a different species to enter his workspace and he was definitely looking forward to running some tests, so he told his team to help him put you on one of the large examination tables. It took quite a few people but once up there they began checking your vitals.

As the head scientist listened for your heartbeat, he heard his name being called out.

“Dr. Matthew! A call just came in and General Ardmore is on her way to the lab to discuss something.” The younger scientist shouted as she ran over to the table. Dr. Matthew rose to his full height, placing the stethoscope to the side, and smoothing out his lab coat. “Did the general say what she wanted to discuss?” He asked with a bitter tone in his voice. He didn’t like when people messed with his work or gave him instructions on how and what to research. He didn’t become a top scientist only to be given orders by someone who doesn’t even understand his work.

“N-no… she didn’t specify…” the young woman said. Matthew noticed that she wasn’t on his usual team and she had a short lab coat, which meant that she was still studying. Could she be an intern? He thought to himself. So he skied “I haven’t seen you here a lot, are you an intern?”

“Oh- y-yea I just transferred from communications… seems they put me in the wrong unit when I came here.” She stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the experienced lab leader.

He hummed in response, walking past her to greet the general at the door. Just as he unlocked it he could see the frightening woman turn the corner. Putting his hands on his hips and slapping a smile on his face, he called out to her.

“General Ardmore! How nice of you to visit my lab. Can I help you with anything?” He asked with a smirk glued to his face, a slightly annoyed tone in his voice.

“I just got the news that the new specimen was delivered to you. What’s that about, I thought I told them to keep her in her cell,” she replied sternly.

The doctor sighed “Look, she went feral for a sec there and they asked me if I wanted her. Of course, I said yes! Do you know what we could do with her? We can sample her DNA and grow new avatars that are adaptable to water? And- there’s such a difference in species. You should see her- she, she looks completely different! Different body structure and everything!” he started rambling, clearly excited about the new discoveries he was going to make.

“Listen, I don’t care about all your sciency stuff alright? I need to make sure that we meet our clients' demands and that you don’t spend all your time and resources on your silly little avatar program. That feral beast belongs dead- six feet under! What are you going to do when she wakes up and goes wild again huh?” She prodded. To be honest, Dr. Matthew hadn’t thought about that, so he quickly tried to come up with something.

“Uhhh- uh well give her sedatives! Make sure she stays calm. But then again…” he started thinking.

“But then she won't be able to cooperate.” She finished for him.

“Yea… that…” he raised his hand to his chin and thought for a bit “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out”

The general sighed and looked around the lab, seeming just the tiniest bit of you, laying on the table, motionless.

“You better, and don’t spend all your time on that thing. You hear me, doctor?”

“Yes ma’am. Will do.”

“Good. I'll leave you to it. I'll check in now and then to keep an eye on you understand?”

“All clear.” He followed up with a little two-finger salute as she turned on her heels and walked off, not looking back even once. Matthew let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that he managed to get her off his back. Even this was one of the more gentle encounters he had with her. Tough woman.

He walked past the open lab doors once more, closer to you. Someone handed him a checkboard that had all your vitals on it. What an efficient team he had. He looked over it with care, checking for anything abnormal but everything seemed fine. His eyes slowly shifted from the paper to your unconscious form. You were so mysterious and he had never wanted to examine something this much before. He had grown up, learning about the Pandora project and the Avatar program. He read all the books and studied hard just to be here, and now he was the first to see a new species of the indigenous people of the foreign planet. He was just itching to start running tests.

But he didn’t know where to start. What should he do first? He ran a hand through his hair, hoping t come up with a plan. In the end, he decided it was best to start fresh tomorrow. He made sure that the sedative was dosed correctly so that you wouldn’t wake up for at least another day. Then he told his team to hit the hay and get some rest. After all, tomorrow he needed them to be sharp as a knife, as they would start their examinations.

He himself was the last to leave, taking one last look and finally locking up the lab. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, but first, he had all night to organize his plans for you. Oh, how exciting!

#avatar 2 #avatar fic #avatar tonowari #avatar: the way of water #tonowari #tonowari x you #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow tonowari #atwow x you #avatar x reader #avatar tsireya #avatar ao'nung #avatar #avatar fanfiction #tonowari x reader #tonowari angst #tonowari is a HUNK

140 notes · View notes

smilingangel582 · 7 months

Text

Afraid of nuthin'

Warning spoilers alert well until Heizou's hangout event and itto story quest

Ps. If u aren't a fan of tickling and friendly things that don't seem more your type and less bizarre, feel free to scroll down... thank you and enjoyyyy my loveliees!

(Lee!heizou and ler!Itto - featuring oopse... *clamps a hand on my mouth* It's a secret and a surprise ending)

***

"Heizouu!"

Startled by the booming voice outside of shimura's restaurant, the young detective Heizou almost spills his tea. It's the third time this month, at least... that Itto gets him to react so differently.

"Itto old chap... Maybe it's better to lower your volume down in public places. " Heizou squints with an assuring expression when the oni steps in almost slipping into a crashing speed at the fragile looking restaurant.

"Oopse, you got it my hombre," he salutes now, walking along with Heizou, who's in fact on his break but rather scavenging for some new intriguing mysteries under Sango's nose.

"Hey buddy," Itto speaks after a few minutes of strolling, probably out if boredom.

"Yes?"

"I'm interested... every instant I see ya, especially during the test of courage," Itto gestures comically as they walk outside Inazuma a bit "you don't seem scared of anything... right?"

Tricky... if he said yes, it would mean Itto will start a troublesome game of finding Heizou's fear, leading to trifling conclusions. Then if he says no... and admit he is. He'll have to spill the impossible. Truthfully, not even he knows what he's afraid... maybe when there will be a day that mysteries won't exist?

"Um... well Itto, I am a human so it might be dramatic to say I'm not scared..."

Either way as Heizou deduced Itto intends to investigate his fear.

Chuckling now "Well, say you are more fearless than an oni, but you are a wee human so I bet you are scared of something..."

Sighing Heizou shrugs and it took quite a while for Itto to even analyse and figure out anything.

Honestly, Heizou's job is still with him himself... no one can take his job. At least the traveller gladly isn't despite having exceptional skills.

"Maybe like me! Is it beans?"

"I'm a human not an Oni..."

Groaning even more Itto pouts a bit. Chuckling at the childish display of the large but kid oni, Heizou professes "Alright Itto, trust me... I'm afraid of somethings but I am not as brave as an oni... does that feel better?"

Oni grins but slightly accepting it. He turns to Heizou and then pokes side. "If I would say you certainly need to eat m-"

"H-hey!" Heizou arcs his back from the touch and backs off, tittering uneasily he states "Itto... space please..."

Curious oni is a dangerous oni, Heizou knew he's skilled to note that about him. Another poke but Heizou prepares by staggering back only to land on his back.

"Heizou? Are you perhaps ticklish?" A look of genuine delight in the discovery.

"H-huh why would you say that I-Itto?" Barely making eye contact.

The oni shrugs but helps him up and slightly offers a playful snicker, "ahh well my compadre you better watchout cause there is someone even scarier than an oni..."

"If you are referring to ghost-"

"Those too but!" He emphasises with a smirk, making Heizou connect the dots before Itto could get to the point. Gently trying to slip away, he stepped back, but Itto caught him without an effort by the arm holding it up as he began his conversation.

"You know who that guy is?"

Gulp, this is not good... if this oni really plans to tickle him, it's the end of his day.

Tactic one, distraction...

"Ah, look at the time... uh... my breaks over Itto... hehe, I better head ba-ahahack!" He poked his ribs now.

Failed... abort! Abort!

"Shikanoin Heizou, you will get a visit from the tickle monster!!" As if he never heard a single word from Heizou since that topic. Fingers immediately dug into his bare sides, beginning his attack properly.

Maybe he should consider a change of clothing since Lumine enjoys poking him here and there.

"Ahaha wahait aha, maybe hehe, I am ticklish buhuhut... ihihits nohohot ahaha feheheeear!" Pushing his hands off slightly averting his eyes to see if there's a crowd watching him struggle to escape a child oni.

Itto's strength is commendable when he pins both his small wrist above his head "Heizou, look here bro, fear of tickles is something everyone has tho some tend to enjoy it...buuut" his fingers lightly tracing his stomach now heizou feels determined to admit he's got a fear of the tickle monster -or rather tickle oni.

"Well you are a detective... might spill a thing or two... right?"

"Aahahahas ihihif a lihihittle tihihickling cahahahan dohoho thahahat!?? Noho, sir!" Heizou's right arm kept pushing him away though with no success.

"Oooooh" mistake, big mistake Heizou realised too late. Too late! He squeaks "NO! Wait!"

Bursts in immediate laughter when Itto tickles his under arms. Itto nods casually "I see, so you are not afraid of the tickle monster making you spill the tea... my bro, if you promise to say the word Onikabuto I'll let you go... but that means you will submit to this little interrogation method..."

Since when did this Oni became soo... evil? Or bad? Heizou was too busy struggling the tickles that are total torture under his arms. He shakes his head "SEHEHERIOUSLY IHIHIHITTOO NOHOHO MORE GAHAHAHAMES... LEHEHET MEHEHE UP!"

"Armpits huh?" Itto snickers enjoying this waaaay more than the victim. Heizou can't even tickle back due to the struggles he wasted. "Well tell me what's the password! Come on little guy... I'll let you go if you say that... hmmm?"

His fingers slowly crawl down, making Heizou giggle but laughing less, as they remain on their sides still tickling. He squirms and yelps "Ack! Ihihittooo! Plehehease!"

"Begging? Alright not so tough now wittle detective... you sure are cute for someone who's not afraid of nuthin'!"

Itto won't shut up. Is this for real? Is Heizou the detective resistant to any torture gonna go submissive against tickling? No way...

Heizou squeals now feeling the fingers crawl up again "AHAHA haha whahahahat thehehe?"

"Incyyy wiiincyyyy Oniii went uuup the ticklish sideees!"

"Nohohohot thahahaaat ohohoho myyy ahahahrchoons!" Heizou blushes furiously. Especially when Itto is singing this version very loudly for the whole town to hear. No! Just yhat alone is intolerable!

"AHAHAH ok ok!!!! Noho more singing!" He panics when the fingers swiftly reached his armpits not even tickling "OK! EEEHEHE IHIHI UHUHUHU OHOHONIKABUTOOO! I SAID IT I SAID IT!"

Itto burst into laughter now hitting his own thigh "Ohooo my! Yohou can't stand thahat can ya!"

"Uhuhunfair... it wahas embarrassing..."

"But you had fuuuun compadre??"

Looking at the excited oni he sighs with a giggle "OK ok... I did,"

"It certainly looked like it"

The familiar windy light voice makes Heizou's blood run cold. He turns to see the anemo vision holder Kazuha.

"K-k-kazuha! What b-brings you he-hear?" Heizou stammers immediately, blushing more at the sight of his former target and now close friend standing there with a fond smile. Smiling even eider Kazuha gestures to the crux fleet. "A trip back to my home again, of course, wanderers may wander, but i also wonder..." leaning forward over Heizou's face."What my dear friend is doing, as a detective that's intriguing..."

Itto applauds with sudden excitement but also getting their attention "My bro your poetic!"

"Why thank you... I see you discovered my friends weakness,"

Itto chuckles "Lil dude be going 'I ain't afraid of nuthin' so I found out he's scared of the tickle oni!"

Kazuha's airy light laughter suddenly draws the wind. "Whyy, he's adorable, isn't he... squealing at his age...?"

"Kaaazuuu, please..." Heizou grabs his hand to stop him, "Itto let's give Kazuha a tour, and we'll introduce you to his heroic actions. " he pulls him away instantly to avoid further vociferous teasing on him.

They were already leading ahead, and Kazuha poked him teasingly about the initial incident, making the detective more embarrassed.

Meanwhile...

"Waaaait..." Itto still ponders and murmurs."Such a familiar nameee, Kazu... kazuha... Kaeda... oh!" and then he runs after them suddenly, recalling"

"Mutso no hitotachi!!!! Waaaaait, I want to fight ya too! Wait, uppp!!!"

(A/N:Sorry about the spelling. I can't remember it... the end, thanks for reading)

#tickle fic #genshin impact #genshin impact tickle #cute #lee!heizou #ler!itto

55 notes · View notes

warabidakihime · 8 months

Text

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Reader | College AU

Synopsis: Love, as unpredictable as the changing tides, swept into our lives like an enchanting story waiting to be written. In the quiet moments, amid stolen glances and playful banter, it whispered its secrets, weaving a tapestry of emotions that neither of us could deny. And when our hearts finally dared to speak, they painted our friendship with the colors of passion, turning an ordinary tale into an extraordinary love story, destined to be told for eternity.

Content warning: none

A/N: satoru has been making his way up my ranks hence the birth of this piece. hope you like it!

Oh, shit.

Since when did it all begin?

Or, to be more precise, when did you finally acknowledge it?

You have absolutely no clue. So now, you're desperately sifting through your memories for answers, or at the very least, some elusive hints as to when and how it all started.

When did your heart start to race and ache for Gojo Satoru?

As far back as you can recall, there were no standout moments that triggered your heart to flutter or inspired any inkling of affection toward him. It's not as if you don't find him attractive; you certainly do. But it's not the kind of attraction that leads to a headlong tumble into love. If anything, Suguru seemed to align more with your ideal type, and you could have sworn your crush was centered on him, not his white-haired best friend.

So, when and how did it happen?

And why is it only dawning on you now?

You entered Satoru's world through the gateway of a mutual friend, Shoko Ieiri. You were the latest addition to their tight-knit friend group. Shoko, your classmate in medical school, played matchmaker by introducing you to Satoru and Suguru when they decided to pay her a visit. You and Shoko were pursuing careers in the healthcare sector—your sights set on neurology and Shoko's on cardiology—the boys had taken different paths.

Suguru had graduated from culinary school and was embarking on a journey to open his own restaurant, while Satoru was gearing up for his licensure exam in education.

Meeting Suguru and Satoru for the first time left you feeling slightly intimidated. To be honest, you weren't the type to seek out new acquaintances willingly. Your introverted nature and minor case of social anxiety made new encounters a bit daunting. However, the boys were incredibly warm and accommodating, and their welcoming nature made it easy for you to seamlessly integrate into their group.

As previously mentioned, while you were getting to know your new friends, you developed an adorable crush on Suguru. You found him incredibly attractive, both in terms of his physical appearance and his personality. He embodied your ideal type—dark-haired, captivating eyes, a soothing voice, incredibly kind, a true gentleman who could also be cheeky and mischievous at times. Shoko even tried to play matchmaker and set you up with him. However, a shared moment with Satoru made you change your course. It happened while the two of you were waiting for Shoko and Suguru at a cafe, the designated meeting spot before heading to the beach getaway you had been eagerly anticipating for weeks.

As you and Satoru waited for your friends, you engaged in a lively conversation about a myriad of topics, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. It wasn't that you and Satoru weren't close before, but this was one of the first times you had the chance to spend quality time together, just the two of you.

Curiosity led you to ask Satoru why he had chosen education as his profession. He playfully responded, "Yeah, I know, someone as handsome as me pursuing a teaching job seems unlikely," earning a playful eye roll from you. He followed it with an endearing chuckle and then delved into his reason.

During high school, when Shoko, Suguru, and he were classmates, there had been some distressing hazing incidents. One particular event had deeply affected him, igniting his anger not only at the school's negligence but also at their heartlessness for not taking action to prevent such incidents from recurring. It had happened repeatedly, and Suguru had nearly become a victim himself.

The revelation shocked you. You learned that your kind and gentle, dark-haired friend had endured a tumultuous time at the tender age of 16, finding himself trapped in a dark and perilous environment. Satoru had nearly lost his confidant during those harrowing days, and as a result, a dream had taken root in his heart. He aspired to become a teacher who would be a reliable mentor for his students, providing them with a safe and nurturing environment.

Listening to all of this made you reflect on his earlier statement. While he said it in a playful manner, what he expressed actually made a lot of sense. It wasn't that you held a low opinion of teachers; in fact, you held them in high regard. It's just that, considering Satoru's exceptional abilities, it seemed fitting for him to pursue a grander path, perhaps in law, astronomy, or even a career in medicine, much like you and Shoko. Hearing someone of his caliber passionately speak about his dreams caused your heart to flutter.

From that day forward, you began to notice and appreciate every aspect of Satoru, from the most significant aspects of his character down to the smallest details. All of it appeared incredibly beautiful to you.

And then, the inevitable happened: you had fallen hopelessly and irrevocably for Gojo Satoru.

As days turned into weeks and your newfound affection for Satoru continued to blossom, you found yourself in a bewildering internal struggle. It was a stark contrast to your previous crush on Suguru. With Suguru, you could effortlessly be yourself. The two of you would exchange playful and flirtatious remarks without a care in the world, and it felt completely natural.

But with Satoru, it was an entirely different story. You were a mess around him. Whenever he entered the room, your heart raced, your palms got sweaty, and your words seemed to tumble over each other like clumsy acrobats. You tried your best to play it off, to act as if nothing was going on in your heart. It was like trying to hide a wildfire with a paper fan.

One day, during a group outing to a cozy beachside cafe, the contrast between your interactions with Suguru and Satoru became painfully apparent. Suguru, sitting across from you, flashed his signature grin and made a witty remark about the quirky seagull that had just stolen a fry from your plate. Laughter erupted from both of you, and you couldn't help but feel a familiar warmth in your chest.

Then you glanced over at Satoru, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with Shoko. His usual nonchalant and playful demeanor was on full display, but there was a tenderness in the way he looked at Shoko, like the affection shared between close friends. It was a side of Satoru that you cherished but also longed for—an intimacy that transcended mere friendship. The way he gazed at Shoko, with those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling, made your heart ache with longing. If he could bestow such warmth upon a close friend, you couldn't help but wonder how he might look at someone who held an even more special place in his heart—someone who could be the love of his life.

It was as if a veil had been lifted, and you began to notice every stolen glance, every accidental brush of your fingers, and every subtle smile he bestowed upon you. Each of these moments sent your heart into a frenzied dance.

As you continued to observe Shoko and Satoru as subtly as you could, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy mixed with longing. Your feelings for Satoru had grown so intense that irrational thoughts sometimes crept into your mind. Thoughts of what it would be like if he looked at you with the same affection; thoughts of being the one who made his heart skip a beat. You knew these thoughts were irrational, and you quickly berated yourself for even entertaining them. You didn't want to jeopardize your friendship with Shoko or cause any discomfort to your friends.

But when he caught you staring a little too long or blushing under his gaze, you quickly averted your eyes, feigning indifference. It was becoming a constant battle between your head and your heart, and you weren't sure which one would emerge victorious.

Deep down, you knew you had a decision to make. You had to confront your feelings, grapple with the uncertainty of potential rejection, and weigh the consequences it might have on your tightly knit friend group. But for now, you continued to navigate this treacherous emotional terrain, desperately trying to keep your heart's tumultuous secret locked away.

The evening had settled comfortably into Suguru's cozy living room, where the soft glow of fairy lights danced on the walls. You and Suguru had arrived earlier than everyone else, taking the time to prepare for the movie night while awaiting Satoru and Shoko.

As you busied yourself with setting up snacks and drinks, Suguru's perceptive gaze followed your every move. He couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your behavior over the past few weeks. With a teasing smile, he leaned in closer, his voice low. "You know, y/n, I couldn't help but notice that something's different these days."

You paused, glancing at Suguru, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "What are you talking about, Suguru?"

He chuckled softly, sipping his drink. "Oh, come on now. Don't think you were so slick in your actions; you weren't."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your confusion apparent.

His playful tone took on a hint of mock hurt as he continued, "Lately, it feels like our playful banter has lost some of its charm. You've been a little distracted, haven't you? I reckon Satoru has something to do with it."

As if on cue, the door to Suguru's apartment opened, and conveniently, Satoru heard what his best friend said. He stood frozen in his tracks, doing his best to stay silent, and listened to your conversation. Fortunately for him, none of you noticed his entrance.

Your eyes met his, and you knew it was time to confide in your best friend. "Suguru, about that..."

His playful demeanor softened into genuine concern as he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and began to lay yourself bare before one of your most trusted friends. You confessed the deep, romantic feelings you had developed for Satoru, the turmoil it had caused within you, and your fear of potential rejection. You spoke of your worries about the impact on your friendship, your tight-knit friend group, and the uncertainties that had kept you from revealing your emotions to Satoru.

As Satoru remained frozen in the hallway, his heart raced at the revelation unfolding before him. He had entered Suguru's apartment just in time to overhear your conversation.

Listening to you confess your profound feelings for him sent a rush of emotions coursing through him. He was caught in a whirlwind of surprise, curiosity, and an undeniable warmth that spread through his chest. For so long, he had believed that your heart belonged to Suguru, convinced that the playful banter you and Suguru shared would inevitably lead to something more.

Now, the truth stood before him, and it was a truth he had never dared to hope for.

He couldn't help but reflect on his own feelings and the love he had quietly harbored for you. It was a love he had kept hidden, convinced that he was not the one who held your heart. But as your words washed over him, he realized that the connection between you two ran deeper than he had ever imagined.

Satoru remained hidden in the shadows, wrestling with a mix of emotions—joy, relief, and a tinge of regret for not having revealed his feelings sooner.

Suguru listened attentively, offering a sympathetic ear and supportive words. "You know, y/n, I can't promise you how Satoru will respond. But I do know one thing—your feelings are valid, and you deserve to be happy. I approve of you and Satoru; the both of you complement each other. I never thought there would be another person that could match his energy, but lo and behold, you appeared right before our eyes."

Suguru's words of understanding and support washed over you like a comforting wave. You appreciated his unwavering friendship and the warmth he had always shown, especially now when you needed it the most.

"Thank you, Suguru," you sighed, a mix of gratitude and anxiety swirling within you. "I just... I needed to get this off my chest. It's been eating at me, and I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

Suguru gave you an encouraging smile. "You did the right thing, y/n. And trust me, Satoru can be a handful at times, but he's got a good heart. I've known him for years, and I've seen how much he cares for his friends, and I've also seen the way he treats you. I'm not saying you should confess your feelings to him right away, but maybe it's worth a shot, don't you think?"

As you continued to chat with Suguru, sharing your fears and hopes for what lay ahead, neither of you noticed the shadow in the corner of the room slowly stepping closer. Satoru had decided it was time to reveal himself, his heart pounding with a mixture of emotions. He couldn't bear to stand hidden in the shadows any longer, not when your confession had stirred something profound within him.

Just as you were about to respond to Suguru, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Startled, you turned to find Satoru standing there, a mixture of surprise and something more complex in his expressive blue eyes.

"Satoru," you gasped, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Suguru, too, turned to see his best friend, his eyes widening with realization.

Satoru cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his usual nonchalant demeanor, but his voice held a hint of vulnerability. "Uhh, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, hehe."

Your heart raced as you met Satoru's gaze, wondering what he would say next, how he would react to your confession, and what it might mean for your future.

As the room fell into a brief, charged silence, Satoru's gaze remained fixed on you, his blue eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. You saw a hint of surprise, curiosity, and something more profound—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Suguru, ever perceptive, gave a knowing smile and patted you gently on the back before excusing himself with a playful wink. "Well, I think I'll leave you two to chat. Catch you later!"

With Suguru's departure, you and Satoru were left alone in the room. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and neither of you knew quite how to start.

"Well, this is awkward," you said with a nervous chuckle, which Satoru mirrored, something he rarely did. His usual confidence was momentarily replaced by a touch of shyness that you found endearing. It almost made you forget how you had carelessly let him know of your feelings.

"Well, I do have a knack for arriving at the right time," Satoru finally said while scratching his nape, his playful nature returning. Then he looked at you, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope, and asked, "Is it true? You love me?"

His question knocked the air out of your chest; your voice almost croaked when you tried to speak, but you managed to remain composed. There's really no use in denying them any longer, so you might as well be honest with him.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady and sincere.

Satoru bit his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress a grin, but his efforts were in vain.

"Since when?" he asked again, his curiosity evident in his gaze.

"For a while," you confessed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you now that your feelings were out in the open.

Satoru's grin grew wider as he took in your confession. He stepped closer, the playful twinkle back in his eyes. "Well, I must say, y/n, I'm quite flattered. It's not every day someone as incredible as you admits to having feelings for me."

His lightheartedness put you at ease, and a small smile played on your lips. "You're not going to make me regret saying that, are you?"

He chuckled—a warm, melodious sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I promise, I'll be on my best behavior... for now."

The two of you settled into a more comfortable conversation, discussing your feelings and the uncertainties that came with them.

"Actually," Satoru began, his voice taking on a more serious tone amidst the playfulness, "I've known about your crush on Suguru for a while now."

You blinked in surprise. "You have?"

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured you two were meant for each other with all that flirting. I didn't want to get in the way. And I honestly think you two would look good together too."

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words settled in. It was a revelation that left you feeling both stunned and strangely relieved.

"But," he continued, "when I heard your confession tonight, it took me by surprise. I never would've guessed you felt the same way about me." he confessed, his eyes locked onto yours.

You met Satoru's gaze, your own eyes conveying the sincerity of your words. "Satoru, what I felt for Suguru was real, but it's different now. I've known him for a long time, and we had a great connection. But what I feel for you is... it's something more. It's deeper, stronger, and it's been growing for a while."

Satoru's playful demeanor gave way to a softer, more genuine expression. "I see," he said, his voice tender. "So, you've had your eye on me all this time, huh?"

You couldn't help but blush, but you nodded. "Yeah, I have. And it's been driving me crazy, not knowing how you felt about me."

Satoru stepped even closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Well, now you know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips. "that I'm crazy about you too."

Anticipation hung in the air as he drew nearer, and you bridged the gap between your lips by gently pulling him closer, your fingers gripping his shirt before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Time seemed to slow down. It was a moment you had imagined countless times—a culmination of desire and longing that had built up over months. The kiss was everything you had hoped for and more.

Satoru's playfulness was momentarily set aside as he leaned into the kiss with a seriousness that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he was determined to convey the depth of his feelings through this single, passionate act. His lips were soft and warm, fitting perfectly against yours.

Tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss. It was a gentle yet fervent exploration, a dance of tongues and sighs that spoke volumes. The world around you seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was the connection you shared, the emotions that surged between you, and the unspoken words that filled the space.

When you finally broke the kiss, you both were left breathless and wide-eyed, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. Satoru's eyes bore into yours, and you could see the sincerity in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

As you basked in the warmth of the moment, Satoru's signature smile brightened the room. His playful demeanor had returned, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his question.

"One more?" he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

You pretended to consider it, with your finger tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "Hmm, I suppose one more wouldn't hurt."

With a grin, Satoru leaned in once again, his lips capturing yours in another sweet kiss. This time, it was lighter, a gentle affirmation of the connection you had forged. It was a promise that there would be many more kisses to come, each one filled with the depth of your feelings and the joy of being together.

When you finally pulled away, Suguru cleared his throat rather obnoxiously, "I'll take it as we're over, y/n?"

Suguru's abrupt interruption had both you and Satoru turning to look at him, breaking the tender moment you had just shared. There was a playful yet mischievous glint in his eyes, and his lips curled into a teasing smirk.

"Unfortunately," you said, playing along with his theatrics. "Sorry, Sugu."

Satoru couldn't resist joining in, his tone mockingly possessive. "Back off, buddy. She's mine now."

Suguru responded snarkily but in a playful way, "She's all yours. He then turned to you with a pout, "Don't even bother soothing my broken heart." Suguru said while "clutching" his heart to emphasize how "hurt" he was.

"How about I treat you to your favorite coffee tomorrow?" you offered him with a sisterly smile.

"Well, that works too." Suguru responded with a chuckle, but it was interrupted by a rather loud bang.

The three of you whipped your heads towards the sudden noise, which was Shoko dropping the snacks she brought for movie night. She obviously missed a whole lot, judging from her shocked expression: "Did I just witness y/n and Gojo exchanging saliva?"

Satoru couldn't resist the opportunity to playfully exaggerate. "Oh, it was much more than just saliva, Shoko. It was a declaration of eternal love, sealed with a kiss."

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but it was all in good fun. The four of you shared a hearty laugh, and the tension from earlier completely dissolved.

Shoko, recovering from her initial surprise, joined in the teasing with a playful smirk. "Well, it's about time, you two. We've been waiting for this moment."

Suguru chimed in, "Yeah, it's been like watching a romantic comedy with slow-burn tension."

As your friends continued to tease and banter, you couldn't help but feel a warm sense of belonging. It was a night filled with confessions, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

135 notes · View notes

14muffinz · 2 months

Note

Whoops! It seems like twin-sync leo has run off to who knows where! Have you seen him?

[this answer is a collaboration with the original asker. the parts in april's perspective are mine, and the parts in donnie's perspective are hers. I hope this still makes some semblance of sense]

~~~

April nearly crashes into the turtle, just barely managing to catch herself in time. Maybe running around the arena isn't the best idea, but, well, she's gotta find her brother somehow.

After stumbling into an alternate April, Donnie blinked a few times in surprise, sure he knew there was other April's, but there weren't too many around in here.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," she says. She might have, for all she knows, but with how hyperfocused she's been on finding her own, she's spotted plenty of different ages, heights, eye colours, and so on. She hasn't focused to hard on anyone in purple, though, and thus she can't help but startle when she realises that this Donnie seems to have slider markings on top of his own. (She should probably be used to weirdness by now, but there's something especially off-putting about seeing something unknown in one of her brothers. "Have you seen my Leo?"

A moment too late, she realises that he probably doesn't know what her Leo actually looks like.

After registering her question he grimaced slightly as he spoke, “Ah… well maybe?? There's a shocking amount of blue here actually..” he ended his statement with a nervous chuckle.

April huffs, figuring she might as well take a bit of a breather. "No kidding. At least my bro's will be able to catch up with me if they don't have any better luck, I'm sticking out a bit I think."

She figures that they're probably still looking for Leon. She can't exactly imagine any of them giving up, unless they do something stupid like trying to use their ninpo to aid in the search.

"I wonder if there's a better way at catching their attention here than just running around aimlessly. I went to the, uh, lost and found corner earlier with my bros, but that place seemed to make it worse than better, to be honest. And, like, this is a really good opportunity to find my brother, since he's been missing for a while, so I can't just…" she trails off, then winces. "Right, sorry, you don't need my life story. Did your brother run off while he was here, or have you been looking for him the whole time?"

Donnie tilted his head to the side as he began recounting the earlier events that lead to Leo running away, “So we may have made friend while we were here, and he thought it would be fun to introduce one of HIS friends to US…” the striped turtle paused for a second “…which wouldn't have been a PROBLEM if he wasn't so… menacing, to put it lightly.”

The purple-clad turtle looked back at April with a nervous expression, “And he kinda… ran off at the sight of him…” the turtle sighed in frustration, “and apparently he got REALLY fast cause I couldn't catch up to him..”

"Ah. Good luck finding him, I guess," she responds awkwardly.

He then directed the question back at her “What about you? Has your Leo been missing long?” He asked.

April nods in response to his question, shoving her hands into her pockets and wrapping one hand around the fidget cube that she's got stored inside. She starts frantically tapping at buttons while she says, "Uh, yeah. He's been missing for over a year at this point, and we haven't had a lot of leads. He just... up and left one night."

It's not really the whole story. It's his missing arm, the one that's still in beta and specially made for fighting at that. It's the nail marks in Draxum's table, as though someone had frantically gripped it, and how Big Mama has been on their asses for months about a robbery that never even happened.

"When we got here, we realised that a lot of other reunions were going on, so we figured that he had to be here somewhere. But so far, no dice. The costumes really aren't helping any."

he took in her response and said “Oh, well my Leo was trapped in another dimension before this whole thing started, but we could still talk, sometimes at least.” He got quieter as he spoke, truly thinking about going a whole year without ever knowing if Leo was even alive… finally came to a resolve with a determined expression, empathy filled eyes looked back to the alternate version of his sister.

"That's good," she says weekly, forcing herself to push down the jealousy that builds. She'd give anything to talk to her missing brother right about now, but she isn't going to allow herself to get upset over something she's glad someone had.

He offered her a hand and with a smile he spoke “How about we team up and look for him together?” In his mind he resolved that his own Leo would be okay for a little longer.

April smiles and nods, reaching out her non-fidgeting hand to shake his. "I'll help find yours too, y'know. It's only fair. The more eyes the better, and all."

When they release the handshake, she grabs her phone out of her pocket, quickly flipping over to a folder full of comfort videos with her and her family. They'd made it shortly after the Kraang Incident, when emotions and separation anxiety were running rampant, and it's been getting tons of use since Leon vanished. She scrolls over to a group photo, taken just a few weeks before he'd gone missing, and shows it to the alternate version of her brother. "This is my fam, so that you can help look. I don't really know if I need help looking for my brothers, since supposedly we'll get tossed back home when all this is over, but... I don't know, it seemed important, I guess."

She twists the cube in her pocket, starting to toy with another side. She's definitely sure that the clicking of the button is now audible, but doesn't particularly care.

Donnie did his best to not acknowledge the faint, but still audible, clicking he heard in an effort to not stress April out any more than he may have already.

Looking towards the picture, he made sure to commit the faces- but in particular Leo's- to memory so he could accurately search alongside her.

As they searched, Donnie encouraged and contributed to telling stories of their respective Leos in an effort to lighten the mood.

~~~

Thanks for writing this with me, was a blast!

@tmntaucompetition

#au comp stuff #wouldn't it be easier #twin-sync (more than you think)

22 notes · View notes

friends-to-lovers-tournament · 9 months

Text

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 3, Side A, Match 4

propaganda under the cut!

Junnana:

Oh they are so very silly and I adore them. They basically spent the anime being the most married couple there, the game amplifying that and the movie burning that all to the ground (or Nana did that) before vowing to start a new later. They're just a girl reaching for her dreams without a ton of natural talent and a girl who enjoys helping her friends shine instead of herself despite being super skilled but even though they have slightly different goals on the stage they both respect each other so very much to the point where things only go wrong in the movie because Nana lost a bit of the respect for Junna that was always so fundamental in their dynamic. The Overture manga gives a bit of insight into what their early interactions were like especially in their respective focus chapters (3 and 9), with 3 showing that Nana was planning on becoming their class president rather than Junna but stepped down just because she had so much trust in her abilities while still making it clear that Junna could rely on her while in 9 the mutual reliance came back in the form of Junna being the one to make Nana realize she wasn't alone. Carrying onwards to the anime, some time before the whole thing, Nana decided "hey time loops are pretty cool" because she was afraid of her and her friends growing up and separating. This was not a fact known by anybody but her and that one giraffe and did not affect the early plot, where for the most part Junna was more focused on due to her struggles being highlighted from the moment revues were introduced and Nana was just constantly around her. Then Junna ended up being the first person Nana actually told about them directly (and not in a very vague way in a revue because otherwise Hikari would be the first) because it was looking like said loops were about to end because the childhood friends to lovers dynamic as a whole decided to say nuh uh to her. Then she did in fact lose her next revue which made the idea of continuing her repetitions a little impossible but Junna ended up recovering from that whole shock pretty quickly, and went to comfort Nana and help her learn to start anew.

Then there's the game which. yeah there's so much stuff in there that I can't even explain it all. In the main story we get the arc of Nana starting her overprotective bs once again, getting stopped and then being given more courage to move forward by Junna since she was realizing that she kind of messed up (since she decided to object to the concept of plays just having lead actors in general. as you do), but there's so much stuff outside of the main story. Highlights include: Junnana literally making up their own ship name, Nana deciding the best way to practice for a role centered around an observant character was to observe Junna specifically, Nana writing a self-indulgent Phantom of the Opera adaptation with herself as the Phantom and Junna as Christine in an event where it turned out she relates to the Phantom (red flag #1 as far as I'm concerned) and wrote Christine based on Junna (Junna was very okay with this but I find it hilarious that she made her adaption of a famous play basically self insert fanfiction), the actual Junnana kiss (stage kiss?? real kiss?? we'll never know), the Valentine's Day event where Junna kept saying things like "oh I'd go to any lengths for Nana" while talking about making chocolate of all things, the time Junna talked about how she wouldn't let anybody take her place of staying right by Nana's side if she had to because she loves being there completely out of the blue to Nana's ex of all people (not a canon ex but a lot of people who know about her whole deal with Nana at least agree that they had something going on. and let me tell you Junna telling the person who constantly regrets not having the strength to remain by Nana's side how much she loved being with Nana was not a smart choice, even though Hisame, the girl in question, took it very well), the Steins;Gate collab where a good chunk of the plot is just Junna being worried about Nana, a play where it turned out that the whole time Junna and Nana had both taken inspiration from each other for their roles, the time they had to actively stop themselves during separate interviews from just rambling about each other, etc. There's so much. Also I forgot to mention it during the main story part but there's also an alternate universe briefly discussed where one of their friends just does not exist so Nana is one of the two best actors in the class and gets the lead role in the play they perform every year, and there's a scene after their performance where Junna talks about how, in the play which is a tragedy involving two lesbians in love, Nana's performance made her think that, if she had stood as her co-star, she would have simply been built different and prevented the tragedy from happening. The plot ends with one character falling form a tower and another being imprisoned within it, and Junna is like "if I was this tragedy and I was with you I would have simply taken your character's hand and never let her go". They're just so married in the game and I can't believe them for it

And then there's the movie. We don't talk about the movie but I kind of have to. Okay so you remember those two friends I was talking about who act very married and ultimately have a lot of their relationship based around their mutual respect for each other? What if Nana stopped respecting Junna entirely one day? That's their movie arc. This movie covers the girls "dying" as stage girls (ie. losing what made them true stage girls/actors in the first place) and then being "reborn" as them, and unfortunately Nana is of the opinion that Junna could just simply have her symbolism death and not the other part. During their revue, Nana talks a lot about how beautiful and dazzling (using those exact words. she even called Junna heartbreakingly beautiful in the dub) Junna was when she was foolishly reaching for a role she wasn't likely to get, but put it all in past tense, and encouraged Junna to let herself die as a stage girl in a brilliant manor rather than trying and failing to grasp her brilliance and dying out like that. also she called her an ugly fruit which sure is something. Then Junna was like "???? no I won't do that actually???" and took one of Nana's swords from her to engage in a sword fight since Nana had destroyed her usual weapon. Which was not a great matchup briefly because Junna never used a sword in her life but after Nana realized that the Junna she was fighting was different from the Junna she knew, and didn't match the role she had assigned for her, Junna ended up telling Nana that her own role was something she'd define for herself and not something Nana could assign for her, and ended up winning against her. After the revue was over, Junna still wanted Nana in her life, and promised her that, one day, they'd reunite on a stage which belonged to both of them, even though they had to find their own stages before that could happen. Before they departed, Nana lamented that Junna was dazzling, contradicting her previous belief that she was only dazzling in the past, all while beginning to cry, and Junna nearly turned around to comfort her, but ultimately decided to continue onto her next stage as Nana carried onwards to her own, knowing that they would both need to grow before their reunion. I also want to mention that, during this scene, a picture of the two of them, one which Nana had stabbed through the middle as she was telling Junna how dazzling she thought she once was, had since been moved to a little pond in the background of the scene (and of the background of the start of the whole revue, so it was there the whole time) that was nearly identical to the one where Junna and Nana had had their moment of comfort at the end of episode 9 of the anime. With the middle of the picture being soaked in water, it ended up sinking just enough for the new cut in the middle of the picture to appear almost mended, showing that, while the damage Nana had done and the rift between them was still there, it was already starting to mend as they once again regarded each other as equals. This scene lives in my head constantly and haunts me daily. Congratulations to Junnana for having a divorce arc as high schoolers

Soriku:

Ultimate friends to lovers. They've been best friends since childhood but as they start to grow up, those feelings change into a more romantic nature but neither handles this well. Riku in particular has a whole villain arc about it bc his insecurities about the situation get the better of him, meanwhile Sora isn't self aware enough to recognize his feelings are romantic in nature but he spends all of his time desperately trying to get Riku back so they can be together again. Ultimately even after they come together, their love continues to be a main driving force of the narrative and it's so palpable

#friends to lovers tournament #revue starlight #kingdom hearts #junnana #soriku #junna hoshimi #nana daiba #kh sora #kh riku #polls #tournament polls

84 notes · View notes

maleyanderecafe · 1 year

Text

Froot Basket: Dark Chocolate (Visual Novel)

Created by: xxmissarichanxx

Genre: Horror

I actually was waiting for this one to come out when I heard it was first announced and I'm really happy I did because this game is fantastic. It's a lot less comedic than the original game, Froot Basket Valentine, and it gives much more context to Momotaru, the yandere in question. For this game you actually play as him, attempting to summon a demon. This is one of the few games where I still didn't get all of the achievements for, so hopefully I didn't miss anything too major that might change what happens. The main one I'm missing is the basketball achievement because that minigame is way too hard to beat. If you'd like more information on the Froot Basket games please look at @xxmissarichanxx for more.

The game summary for this might be a little strange since the game runs in a time loop with the dialogue changing slightly when replayed. I'll note the differences after I go with the normal route as well as what happens in the endings (or at least I'll try because I can't seem to get the full ending for it). There are a lot of other small things I'll try to explain as well, since it depends on where you go during each day.

The story starts out initially with Momotaru waking up to find Jordan worried about him. Apparently, the two had just performed a ceremony with a demon, though it doesn't seem to have worked. Momotaru ends up passing out due to a nosebleed and ends up in the infirmary after, where he hears Spine and Dr. Ringo chatting with each other. Dr. Ringo tries to get him to go home since he's not in such good shape, but Momotaru decides to head to the basketball game anyways. Momotaru goes to watch Jordan as now they are a candidate for the next captain of the basketball team and admires them from . Momotaru ends up joining the team, though fails to stay as he ends up nearly passing out again, forcing Coach Paer to kick him out. Jordan comforts Momotaru afterwards, melting his heart. Momotaru then laments about how he's an outcast, and he shows how jealous he is towards Sutoro, someone that Jordan has a crush on. During lunch he learns about how Spine and Dr. Ringo are dating. Dr. Ringo informs Momo to go home, but Momo refuses as he wants to spend more time with Jordan. As he hears whispers in his head, he searches for either Jordan or Spine. Fighting with Spine reveals that the two are brawling to help Jordan with basketball, while finding Jordan instead makes him find Sutoro, who tells him to stay away from Jordan as he's done pretty terrible things to others in the past. Either way, Jordan ends up handing the demon book that started the mess to Momo. Momo ends up going to the bathroom where they did the ritual to find out what's going on, only to find that the demon the two summoned has attached himself to Momo. Momo asks the demon to make Jordan love him and only him in exchange for getting bits of hair, spit, sweat and other things for the demon. Reading the book shows that having the love potion to work requires them to be fed it slowly. The rest of the game requires the player to get these pieces from the people around them, at least until Halloween where the ritual is performed. Failing it will cause Momo to continually repeat the same cycle over and over again.

There are a couple of differences in the second time around, where Momo remembers the days events and tries to bypass them, as well as moments where the demon attempts to take control of Momo. He also realizes that the pieces he's gathering from others are to make the Demon a body. When done correctly and with all of the parts, Momo will continually feed Jordan the love potion so that they forget all those around them. This leads to the events of the last game, as well as the true ending where Momo is found unmoving on the floor. If the player does not get everything in time, the spell doesn't work and Jordan will still befriend the others like in the original game. Unfortunately I couldn't get the last ending where the demon takes over (or maybe I did, but that was a long while ago), so hopefully there wasn't anything too big on that ending.

We learn the general reason to why Jordan like Sutoro so much- mostly that he's very cool and popular, the type that speaks directly and intentionally. As a result, Momo becomes extremely jealous over him, attempting to be popular as well to gain Jordan's attention and supposedly also tripping him down the stairs in the past, which leads to Sutoro being very wary and disliking Momo.

I gotta say first of all that this game is very well made and an excellent prequel sequel to Froot Basket Valentine. While I loved the tone and the absurdity of the original game, one of the things I wasn't too found of was the fact that we didn't know that much about the relationship between Momotaru and Jordan, since the two seemed to be very close and that he was a yandere for them. Luckily, this entire game does show how Momotaru feels towards Jordan and why, along with why the events of the first game happened in the first place. I also think it's nice that we are able to see more of the relationships between all of the characters, thus learning more abou them. The art style, while different from the first game really does set the tone of it, favoring a more comic book style rather than a more painterly/goofy look to it, which I really do like. The various events that can happen as well make it very good for replayability, especially since you can get different types of parts from different characters depending on what is chosen.

Momotaru as a yandere is very cynical, not caring or disliking most of the other characters besides Jordan since he sees them as their one true love. Unlike in Valentine, we do see that Momotaru sees himself as more of a loser rather than the more popular chick magnet that he was in that game. He looks down on other and himself and just hates it when anyone gets near them, even though most of the other characters, with the exception of Paer and Suturo, seem to be rather friendly with him. With Suturo its a rival situation where he does attempt to get rid of him (and fails) as well as try to become more like him so that Jordan will like him thorough popularity and trying to be good at basketball (because as it turns out Momotaru is actually pretty weak physically), though it ironically doesn't really matter as much considering that Suturo ends up rejecting Jordan in Valentine, as he has no romantic interest in them. He's specifically very spiteful towards him for this reason, so anything that ends with him hurting Suturo probably makes him happy. So it does make sense that he wants Jordan to like him and makes a deal with the demon, considering that Jordan is A. kind of oblivious and B. already very clearly likes Sutoro. When it comes to Jordan though, Momotaru is very lovestruck over them, even offering to help them do a demonic ritual to (apparently) help make their friend's life better, and in a lot of cases even just outright confesses to liking them or wanting to be with them. In some cases it does seem like he worships them to a certain degree, trying to find them always, remembering everything that they told him and just seeing all of the good sides of them. That being said, he is willing to use more underhanded tactics of being with them, specifically the love potion that's created at the ending when the ritual is completed on Halloween, so that they would forget everyone except him. I'll be honest Momotaru and Spine were actually pretty big inspirations for Iya and Emil in terms of personality and appearance (to a certain degree) so I'm always happy to see them in the game.

That being said, I think the biggest qualm I have about the game is that it's very hard to get all of the endings, even with a tutorial. Normally, it's not too difficult for me to complete most of a game, especially for visual novels, but there's a lot of finicky things going on with Froot Basket that make it difficult. It's generally very hard to remember how to get everyone on the hitlist and harder to time it correctly to get everything you need, especially without the tutorial. Even with the tutorial, I was only able to get two of the three endings (for some reason the Consume ending is evading me, though I'm pretty sure I've successfully did all of the clicking minigames right and followed the walkthrough). For me, the basketball minigame is pretty hard as well since it's a lot based on chances and Suturo is leagues better at the game than Momotaro is (or at least the game is more biased towards letting Suturo win) so I had to give up on that one. That being said, I am very grateful for the tutorial because it did allow me to make sure I could get two of the endings, but it's still pretty difficult for me to get everything that I need to make a full analysis of the game (though I guess missing one ending probably won't kill me).

Overall, an extremely well made game. If you liked Froot Basket Valentine and want more from the characters, please give it a try. There's a lot of things you can learn about everyone and the story is very intriguing seeing it from the yandere's point of view. I highly recommend it.

#Froot Basket Dark Chocolate #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #visual novel #completed

58 notes · View notes

thecleverqueer · 8 months

Text

Ways I see Episode 8 of Ahsoka going:

Full discretion, I haven’t the slightest clue (which makes me nervous).

Up until now, I’ve had a pretty clear idea of where the narrative was headed, but I’m in the dark now. Still, here are my theories:

Thrawn absolutely makes it back to the known galaxy. I feel like this is an obvious given based on previous narratives (Mando season 3 and Filoni /Favreau interviews indicating that they wanted Thrawn to be the main villain of the era). I don’t know what Thrawn’s motivations are. Possibly revenge. Possibly a promise that he made to the emperor. Regardless, he’s going to bring the Imperial Remnants together. They’ll be a formidable force to be reckoned with. They’ll lead directly or slightly indirectly into the First Order.

Morgan Elsbeth will either make it out with Thrawn or will be killed by Ahsoka. I assume the three mothers will be in tow (with or without Elsbeth). It’s pretty apparent that those boxes that Thrawn was loading onto his ship are Nightsister (or Nightbrother) remains. This will be another problem for the New Republic to deal with. They’ll likely rebuild Dathomir while allying themselves with the Imperial Remnants. They’ll also likely show up in Skeleton Crew (pure speculation, but pirates and the undead chasing kids around sounds like a good time). I’m betting on Elsbeth’s survival.

Baylan is absolutely staying behind to chase after whatever greater voice calls to him. They may leave this plot thread open since Ray passed, but I feel like whatever it is he’s after; he’ll ultimately unleash. We won’t find out what it is this season. Maybe the movie? Maybe season two of Ahsoka should it get a second season? I don’t know. Ultimately, it’ll be a problem. It will likely require Ahsoka and all of her little Bokken Jedi (stray cats) to deal with.

Shin will either return to Thrawn with no other options in front of her, or she’ll turn to the light and join Ahsoka and her Bokkens. I imagine she’ll likely work with Thrawn and Elsbeth for a while longer, and they’ll abuse her. She’ll turn to the light inevitably. Clearly, it calls to her.

Now for the heroes… I can see this going one of three ways:

1.) I think this is the least likely options, but they all make it out of Peridea safely… by the skin of their ass. They’ll end the series where they link up with Hera on Lothal, and there will be an emotional “well, we’re fucked, but at least we have each other” moment. I don’t think this is likely because I honestly don’t think Ahsoka thought this through, and I don’t think they have the coordinates to get back without the whales that go to Peridea to die. Which leaves me with two more likely scenarios:

2.) All three heroes (Sabine, Ezra and Ahsoka) are left at the end of the story… stranded on Peridea. With no logical way home, they’ll have to work together to find a way to navigate back on Ahsoka’s shuttle in a later story. An argument can be made that Ezra’s constant banter about “going home” is a twisted foreboding where the narrative swiftly gut punches him and goes, “well actually.” Watching them navigate this new galaxy together in an attempt to get home could be compelling in the event they have actually green-lighted a second season of Ahsoka.

3.) Ezra makes it out in a dramatic fashion on the Chimera trying to stop Thrawn from getting back to the known Galaxy… which basically makes him Thrawn’s captive once more, and Ahsoka and Sabine are left stranded on Peridea… and, honestly, this seems like the most likely scenario. This really raises the stakes in a lot of different ways. First, we have Ezra back home, but not the way he’d planned to be back at all. Second, we have Sabine and Ahsoka trying to figure out a way off Peridea together which will allow for character development on the part of Sabine (she clearly has many lessons to learn as she has basically damned the galaxy over an attachment which we know is a big no-no in the “Star Wars: Lessons” department, and never ends well). It could also open the door for more mystical adventures, and a potential for them to work together to try and stop Baylan from doing whatever it is that he’s doing. We could also just have the two of them trying to navigate back through the unknown galaxy with Huyang which would doubtlessly be pure gold.

Things I don’t think will happen to the heroes (that other fans are hellbent on):

*Ezra dies.

If it were Lucas, and Sabine did what she did… Ezra absolutely would die, but this is Filoni and Disney. Ezra lives.

*Ezra sacrifices himself, and stays behind alone.

I don’t think that this would be a fair option considering that it was Sabine that screwed the Galaxy, and basically made Ezra’s self-imposed exile meaningless. I think he gets back to the known galaxy… either with Thrawn or with Sabine and Ahsoka.

*Sabine sacrifices herself, and stays behind alone.

Sabine is the one that has the lesson in “letting go” and “sacrificing for the greater good” to learn, but I can’t see Ahsoka letting Sabine stay on Peridea alone. Also, Sabine getting left behind would ensure another story would be wasted going back to Peridea again to fetch another lost Comrade… which is lazy and lame.

*Ahsoka sacrifices herself, and stays behind alone.

While this could happen, it would be lame and not very narratively fulfilling mainly because Ahsoka jumping into a whale’s mouth to save Sabine was enough of a sacrifice. It is Sabine that needs to learn the lesson, and she’ll learn nothing if she gets to go back to the main galaxy with Ezra and live happily ever after with he and the Ghost Crew while Ahsoka sacrifices herself and stays behind. Also worth noting, the whole premise of the series is this master/ apprentice relationship between Ahsoka and Sabine which has been fractured and should be at least on the mend by the end of the series /season. It seems clear that Filoni’s goal (as well as the way the show has been marketed) here is to make Sabine part of the disaster lineage which will require Sabine and Ahsoka to spend more time with one another. I think if one is left behind, the other will be there too.

*Ahsoka dies.

Ha ha ha ha ha! Ahsoka can’t die. Let’s move on.

*Ahsoka will be saved by the Skeleton Crew.

So, I will start by saying that I don’t know a lot about the Skeleton Crew, but from what I do know, it’s about kids getting lost in the Star Wars Galaxy. They run into Jude Law, and they have to find their way home. I tend to think that they’re going to end up lost in the known galaxy, not Peridea because how TF would they end up there? There’s also been rumors about pirates and Jawas, which once again, are in the known galaxy (and maybe this will finally open the door for a live-action Hondo).

Anyway, there are two big reasons that I don’t think Ahsoka will even show up in Skeleton Crew (and if she does, it’ll only be as a minor cameo). 1.) it’s supposed to be about the kids in the show and their experience, and if Ahsoka shows up in this capacity, then the show immediately becomes about Ahsoka being rescued. Let’s be honest. Ahsoka would absolutely hijack their show, and if you’re trying to build new characters and stories, this isn’t how it’s done. 2.) Dave neither wrote nor directed any Skeleton Crew, and Dave is pretty protective of Ahsoka and her story. I don’t think, at this point, that Dave would let anyone write canon stories about her without direct, credit-worthy involvement. I might be wrong, but look at the track record. I think I’m right.

Anyway. I guess we’ll see.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #ahsoka series #sabine wren #ezra bridger #ahsoka speculation #episode 8 #grand admiral thrawn #morgan elsbeth #baylan skoll #shin hati #the skeleton crew

22 notes · View notes

machiroads · 5 months

Text

Machi's 2023 Year In Review

'23 was a bit of a wild one. A toast to the last twelve months (both in fandom and IRL) under the cut.

Fic

Here's what went out the door in '23:

Naruhata Noir

I started posting NN in December '22, about a month after finishing 9L. At one point last year I joked about finishing the entire thing in the week between Christmas and New years. Evidently, this did not happen for a variety of reasons:

A) A series of events occurring in my personal life that do not merit further detail that I will herein refer to as "the conga line of nonsense". That kicked off during last year's holiday season and bled into like...May. Which leads directly into:

B) Tears of the Kingdom came out. And;

C) A general loss of motivation in the project.

During the aforementioned Conga Line of Nonsense, I had a goal of finishing before TotK came out, but I only managed to cobble together another 4 chapters between January and May. After somehow managing weekly to biweekly chapters for 9L, NN was much more sporadic, and at one point I had people asking me if I was still alive. Which. sucked, since I generally strive to be a somewhat reliable person.

Once the TotK hyperfixation hit, I managed maaaaaaybe another 2 chapters before I finally got bored of grinding monsters to upgrade outfits. I did manage to meet the third self-imposed deadline of finishing before going to Japan for 2 weeks, so at least that's one W.

In addition to the distractions of Life, NN was more challenging to write for a few main reasons:

Aizawa is not the narrator. Look, I'm mature enough to acknowledge that he is Blorbo From My Shows, and everything I write wants to revolve around him. Taking a step back from that and trying to get into another character's head after spending 8 solid months on 9L was an adjustment. It took me a bit of time to find Shinsou's voice.

Most of the relationship dynamics in this fic are non-canonical, and pulled directly out of my ass. Shinsou's relationships with the Hottas are central to the back half of the fic, and his relationship with Mirko also becomes prominent at times. NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS HAVE EVER INTERACTED IN REAL LIFE I'M JUST SMASHING DOLLS TOGETHER LIKE I DID AS A 7 YEAR OLD.

Trying to parallel something I already wrote several months ago is hard. I wanted NN to make sense on its own, but also follow the relevant bits from 9L. This was next to impossible to accomplish without sounding clunky. Almost from the very beginning of the fic, the outsider's perspective of Aizawa's first steps, I felt the urge to change the dialogue because the story that I wanted to tell from Shinsou's perspective was different from the one I wanted to tell from Aizawa's perspective. I locked myself into that rigidity for a while, until I finally decided just to say fuck it at the end and modify the 9L dialogue slightly because the story had taken on a life of its own.

Erasermic took a major backseat in this one, but I still needed to scratch the itch, and I think that's why I ended up writing 2 emic one shots in between chapters.

I don't think a direct parallel spin-off is something I would try writing again, and the fic was probably a lot longer than it needed to be, but at the end of the day, I'm satisfied with the way it turned out, and I'm happy I was actually able to finish it this year.

Here's a collage of my inspo for Aizawa's apartment cobbled together from google maps and japanese real estate websites.

Being No One, Going Nowhere

The first of the 3 one shots that I put out this year, and a proof of concept that I can slap together 3k in a day and a half fever dream and call it a fic.

This one in particular was instigated by one of @o0fyuu0o's tweets that refused to leave me alone. And maybe also the two broken arms story from reddit, but you know, like, less incesty.

Mic was extremely pathetic in this one, which is immensely fun to write. Just a pathetic little meow meow. Sopping wet cat of a man.

College AU was fun to write, emboldened in part by @kyurilin's fic Stray. After being married to canon-verse for both 9L and NN, this was an exercise in just making shit up, and also living vicariously through the memories of the house I lived in for the better part of 2 years as an undergrad. I graduated 7 years ago and it is still crystallized in my memory.

A Tumultuous Sea, You and Me

I've been nursing a healthy crush on Pirate!Aizawa (or Paizawa, as the kids on JP Twit call him) since the Volume 35 character page came out in June '22. Paizawa even killed a 2 year long art block, that's how powerful he is. (Look!)

I do not remember what exactly spurned this one on, but it also got written in the span of about 2 days. I think I reread The Art of Drowning at some point this year, but I do not remember if it was during the writing frenzy, or sometime before it.

Aizawa gets to hold the meow meow card again in this one. His 2 sentence rivalry with Vlad is one of the best things I've ever written.

Of the 2 days I spent writing this, I probably spent 75% of that researching pirate ships. I used almost none of it, and have forgotten almost all of it by this point.

I feel like everyone that dips their toes into the realm of merpeople has a different interpretation on it, but I wanted to spend approximately 0 minutes on worldbuilding, so it's just kind of a chill coexistence between the pirates and the mermaids in this one lol. People were intrigued by said "worldbuilding" however and wanted more, but I think I've scratched the mer-pirate itch for now haha.

1966 Ford Nutstang GT350 Shelby

@kyurilin made a tumblr post that misspelled "mustang" as "nustang" and I skim-read it and saw "nutstang" and was like "you know what would be a terribad nickname for the car? Nutstang." At which point I immediately informed her, which led down the rabbit hole of a very loose RP (as it often does) and I decided YOU KNOW WHAT? I SHOULD JUST TURN THIS INTO A CRACK FIC.

At which point I had to sort of construct a loose plot around the entire bonkers concept. Nemuri held a key role in the pseudo-RP, but I ended up wanting to keep the fic tight and her role was mostly cut. But rest assured she is there in spirit, though, judging.

The plush nutsack is just a bastardization of a kangaroo ballsack coinpurse I saw in a Crap Souvenirs From Around The World calendar I had many years back that has imprinted on my memory. At no point did I seek out visual reference for it, and neither should you. It is up to the reader's imagination.

On the topic of bastardizations, the reappearing nutsack plotline is borrowed from the drawfee gnome saga.

Mic yelling GOOD MORNING and Aizawa banging his head on the underside of his desk is S tier slapstick.

PEOPLE MADE ART????

Some wonderful listeners readers are still making art for 9L, and we have been blessed with two beautiful new pieces this year:

Mic and Eri's selfie, from @kaleidoscopedrawsjpg

The Only One Bed scene, from @guiltyfixations

@obsessed-dragon also drew the photo of Shinsou holding Miso from Naruhata Noir, and Black Spider Eyes drew Aizawa dangling out the window from Tumultuous Sea.

Every time a piece of art drops on my dash, or I see my fic being recommended to other people, my brain does a lil short circuit and I have to go get up and walk around for a bit. I'm not sure words can express how much it means to me that people have enjoyed my writing enough to recommend it to other people, or sit down and create something of their own based off of it. It's humbling, and I'm truly grateful for every kind word or "sketch I should have maybe spent a little longer on" hahaha

Stats!

Look, I'm an engineer. I can't resist the thrall of Microsoft Excel. So here's A Chart.

I value Bookmarks the highest of all the stats that AO3 spits out. Views are pointless (skewed higher in the context of multi-chap fics). Kudos are an indicator of how many people read and liked enough to leave a kudos, but bookmarks are my indicator of how many people liked it enough to keep it around to read again, or recommend to others.

The bookmark-to-kudos ratio is (in my unscientific opinion) a measure of how many people loved the work vs how many people just liked it.

From the chart above, we can propose the following conclusions:

9L is still, far and away, the most popular, and most well-loved thing I've ever written. I'm fine with that.

The Nutstang fic was a certified cult classic, with a bookmark-to-kudos ratio of almost 0.3, second to only 9L.

NN is at a respectable ratio of 0.24 (middle of the pack), but in terms of number of kudos, is not that far ahead the mer-pirate fic. NN was not tagged as erasermic, so I do think this checks out in terms of sheer exposure.

Still Cooking:

FFXII AU

I started this one in March during the conga line of personal life nonsense. I somehow lured in Robbirdthe8th and @o0fyuu0o and @obsessed-dragon and got a solid month of drafting done before I was like "maybe I should work on NN again" and then it sat dormant until like. October.

It's up to almost 30k across 3 partially written chapters already, and I outlined 9 chapters. It is almost certainly overambitious, and I will almost certainly run into the same motivation issue I had with NN because it's a rooftop 4 fic and not just erasermic, and it has a demographic of approximately four people as an AU of a game that came out in uh........2006.

I thought I'd get at least some of it out in '23 but I'm taking it easy and just writing when inspiration strikes at the moment.

Fortuneteller AU

I started this one maybe a week-ish ago, in my quest for a pitch for the erasermic zine (surprise! they haven't made official announcements yet, but I'll be in it. this is an easter egg for those of you who made it this far). It's going to end up far too long for the 3k word limit for that, so I'm just co-opting it for another one-shot. Taisho era urban fantasy dabbling in some Violet Evergarden/FMA-esque post-war themes. Mic with pince nez. Aizawa in hakama. Gratuitous amateur tarot. It has gripped me by the throat.

More from the Nine Lives Extended Universe (canon-willing)

I've got 3 more spin-offs to 9L simmering, just waiting for canon to figure out its business. These are:

When The Battle's Lost and Won

A final battle post-mortem in 4 parts (if 3baka all make it out alive that is). Every few chapters of canon that come out, something gets added or tossed. Extremely fluid at this point, but there are some good quality blurbs and bullet points in there.

Kintsugi

The erasermic epilogue to 9L, from Mic's perspective. An exploration of their relationship beyond the final battle, with an overarching theme that I've borrowed from a Dorktown documentary on former Toronto Blue Jays pitcher Dave Stieb: Not at all, and then all at once.

This one's just pure body worship, punctuated by an extremely casual marriage proposal. A lot of people still comment on 9L like "THIS CAN'T BE IT, WHERE'S THE REST OF IT?", so I hope this will satisfy those looking for some closure from a relatively open ending.

The Way of the Househero

With the impending graduation of the hell class, and a body that doesn't quite move the way it used to, Aizawa has a bit of an existential crisis and semi-retires so he can be a full-time parent to Eri while figuring out what's next for him. Mostly slice of life. No real plot to this one yet, mostly just vignettes. Aizawa finally gets cats of his own, makes mom friends, and becomes more of a knife slut (only its in the kitchen now instead of on the streets).

IRL

Painting

Every room in my home is painted some sort of bland pastel, and this year we managed to purge pastels from four rooms: my home office, our living room / dining room, and our bedroom. I am enormously pleased with how each of these have turned out.

Gardening

We moved to this house in January '22, and last year was mostly seeing what came up in the garden. This year we cleared out a lot of the decorative shrubs in our backyard (turns out you can hock shrubs on facebook marketplace), and planted a veggie garden. The extent of my gardening experience prior to this year was mowing the lawn as a teenager, so this year was a continuous learning experience, and likely will be for many more years to come.

We had some big wins (potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, cherries, squash, dear god the squash), and some losses (apples that were infested with tent caterpillars, arugula that bolted, and lettuce that got eaten by bunnies to name a few).

In addition to veggies, we also did a lot of general cleanup around the rest of the yard, including clearing out some invasive species and thinning out some partially dead shrubs. We mostly let the yard do its own thing last year, and the previous owner of our home died about 6 months before we moved in, so it was probably neglected for a while. I cut out a blackberry cane that was as long as our driveway. I bought a wood chipper and a compost aerator and am learning the art and science of turning yard trash into yard treasure. (I have not peed on my compost pile yet, as recommended by /r/composting. Maybe some day.)

I also adopted a clipping from my sister-in-law's monstera, which has done quite well (except for the parts my cat has taken a mild interest in nibbling on from time to time)

Travel

Probably too much travel this year ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3 Weddings (4 if you count the one in December '22 that's included in the Conga Line of Nonsense). Got covid at 2 of them. Invited to a fifth next year. Wishing everyone of marriageable age I know IRL a very elope

Trips for work to Winnipeg and Calgary (to which I have never been before, but are both underwhelming). Also got to fly on a floatplane for the first time, which is noisy, but the views are unbeatable

I turned 30 this year, and after the Conga Line of Nonsense, I said fuck it, we're going back to Japan for my birthday. 2 weeks, 8 cities. L: Shimanami Kaido cycle (still somehow 30 degrees in September x full sun x forgot sunscreen x 80km = pain) (my husband has proofread this and insists that this is not an L but agree to disagree) W: Hokkaido (beautiful scenery, incredible food, not 30 degrees in September lmao)

Anyways

If you made it this far, thanks for reading, and thanks for your love in '23. I hope to provide you with more of the same nonsense in '24. Let me know if you want a spinoff cats + gardening + DIY blog, since that's just my life now. Happy new year 🍾

#Machiwrites #long boi under the cut

11 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 7 months

Text

Scoops! (Part 7-- Epilogue)

Whew! Finally done! I have a lot of notes on this story at the end on my AO3, but I think for tumblr, the less clutter the better. It was honestly such a rush writing this, and everyone who's been reading from the start, thanks for sticking with me this past... *checks timestamps* Month. Jesus. I must have been possessed or something. For those of you who are just seeing this story now, congrats! You can start back at the beginning and not get screwed over by my cliffhangers!

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Read it on AO3 here!

----

It had been about three hours. Clark was still in his full Superman uniform, but oddly he wasn’t doing his usual ‘majestic hover looking over the city.’ Instead, he was sitting on the edge of Lois’s apartment building, elbows resting on his knees, like a big kid. Lois huffed and pushed her scarf up under her chin as she elbowed her way out of the stairwell, stuffing her hands under her armpits for warmth in the quickly fading daylight. A small radio was playing next to him.

“…Officer Maxwell Jensen, one of the newest recruits to the Metropolis Police Department’s Special Crimes Unit, was killed today while attempting to stop unidentified terrorists from stealing the remains of Anthony Ivo’s Parasite suit husk from downtown. While there are conflicting accounts, the terrorists seemed to be in possession of technology similar to that used in Metropolis’s recent string of crimes. Federal sources have assured WGBS that the Parasite suit was destroyed in the ensuing conflict, and that they will be continuing to monitor the situation. In light of these events, Police Commissioner Bill Henderson is in talks to expand the SCU’s budget—”

Lois turned off the radio next to him, forcing him to blink and snap out of his haze.

“How’d it go?” she folded her arms.

“It… wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. But like, three different people told me I needed to go lay down.”

“You do,” said Lois, plainly.

Clark scratched at his temple with a fingernail, “I look that rough, huh?”

“You do,” said Lois, more intensely.

“I know, I just… I kind of needed it,” Clark spoke absently, before looking at his hands, “I—I needed to be sure they were back. I needed to do something that wasn’t… punching a robot or getting thrown through a wall.”

“I know,” said Lois, softly.

“And I was going to come inside, but I needed to think,” said Clark, “Just for a minute.”

“I know,” Lois said again, now beginning to feel a bit ridiculous at how much she was repeating herself, but Clark tended to keep things wrapped up tight inside of himself, when he talked like this, she found it was easier to gently lead him along and let him unspool it on his own. It took her a while to figure that out, and it was partially something she had to learn by watching Jimmy. It also took Clark a while to learn, too, that for all his invulnerability, he wasn’t nearly as good at hiding when something affected him as he thought he was—at least when it came to the people that loved him.

Both were quiet, but Lois shuddered as another cold wind blew through.

“Cold?” said Clark.

“I’m fine,” she said to him, trying to push a bit of lightheartedness into her voice, “I keep thinking you need a winter version of that suit. Aren’t you cold? Or is the invulnerability to cold, too?”

“I get colder when I’m tired,” Clark wasn’t looking at her, “At night, too. I’m colder at night.” He seemed to perk up slightly, and a beat of silence hung between them. He glanced over at her.

“What?” she tilted her head.

“Oh—-just… as soon as I said that, I thought you were going to hit me with something like ‘At night, huh?’ And you’d do your little eyebrow thing. And I’d turn into a stammering idiot, as usual, and—now that I’m saying it I realize that’s a really dumb expectation to have, but I mean you are funny, you’d just have something smarter to say than that but—” he caught himself and trailed off, “Sorry. It’s been a weird day.”

“Weird day,” Lois repeated. So much for gentle, patient, unspooling. She took a long steady inhale through her nostrils. “Okay, no, you know what? You’re not doing this.” “Not doing what?” said Clark.

“You’re not going to just… shrug off something that was clearly traumatic.”

“I’m not shrugging off anything—”

“Clark, you had a shock collar put on you.”

“I know.”

“By me.”

“But she wasn’t you—” Clark started and then seemed to catch himself. “Oh—” ‘I know what this is about’ rippled across his features and his face dropped, “Oh god, Lois, I’m so sorry.”

“No-no-no-no, you aren’t making this about me,” Lois’s voice was going thick.

“But I know what you’re going through right now—” Clark started.

“What I’m going through is seeing you hurt!”

“But it’s not just that, is it?”

Lois stared at him, mouth hanging open but jaw tensed, furious at those big soft sky-blue eyes of his. No, you don’t get to do this. No, I’m not the one to be saved, here. But god, it still came pouring out of her.

“I just—I just hate it!” Her breath was short, “I love you and I can’t stand seeing me hurt you! I can’t stand hearing them talk about you like—like you’re a weapon or an animal with my voice! I would never—Okay I know I was trying to teach you some sparring moves before this but I would never—!”

“It’s okay, I know, I trust you,” Clark put his hands on the outsides of her arms. Always so fucking careful with her.

“And I’m upset because you should be more upset about it!” Her breath shuddered for a second but she inhaled sharply, not letting that turn into a sob, not letting whatever levy was holding the tears back break, “I know how much it hurts you when people are scared of you like that.”

His grip on her arms instinctively slackened at that, and he glanced down. “Okay… you’re… not wrong about that,” he took his own steadying breath, “But… look, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with people like that, and I really doubt it’s going to be the last, so—”

“And she laser-blasted you!”

“Lois,” he gently touched the corner of her jaw, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but this wasn’t the first time I’ve been shot by an alternate universe version of you.”

Lois’s eyes went wide and one corner of her mouth twitched.

“I mean it’s not fun, or anything, obviously,” Clark pulled his hands away from her and went on, his feet drifting off the ground—sometimes he floated when his mind was particularly occupied, she noticed, “It’s definitely not something I would ever want to go through again, but… it’s less of a shock the second time?”

“Claaark—!” Lois blurted out, distressed.

“Okay, that’s not really the point I wanted to make,” Clark ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff before his eyes met hers again, “What I’m saying is… I love you too, and no evil alternate version of you is going to change the way I feel about you. And in a weird way, it’s kind of a relief knowing there is an evil ‘you’ out there. Or at least a morally ambiguous antihero ‘you.’”

“What?” said Lois.

“I mean…” Clark drifted away from her, out over the edge of the building, folding his arms over his chest and staring out over the city. It was a strange moment where Lois was more starkly aware of the vast void of the street beneath him, rather than the fact that he was currently defying gravity. “I saw all those evil me’s. All those versions of Superman as this… force of terror and destruction. I still hate the thought of it…” His eyes flicked to hers, “Probably as much as you hate seeing that version of yourself. But it helped me realize, you don’t need powers to hurt people. I know my powers make me different, but they don’t make me… that. It all comes down to the choices we make and how our world shapes us, and I think seeing that version of you really helped me see that.”

Lois’s lips pressed thin.

“And… it just makes me realize how lucky I am to be in this universe with you,” he said, his eyes softening as a small smile lit up his features. He floated toward her again before finally letting his feet touch on the ground in front of her. Lois just stared up at him for a few seconds before making an exhausted groan and pretty much thumping her forehead onto the shield crest on his chest.

“Hey,” Clark cupped his hands at her jaw and kissed her forehead, “It’s okay.”

She looked up at him. Her hand went up to the red welts and Lichtenberg figures at his throat from the collar, hovering over the skin. He had a broken blood vessel in one eye, a splotch of red angrily snarling around big soft blue—whether it was from the repeated electrocutions of the Spider Lady, or the fight with Amazo, neither of them was sure. He gently brought up his own hand over hers, pressing her hand against his neck.

“I’m okay,” he said, before enveloping her in a hug, unthinkingly floating them both off the ground as he did so. He took her hand in his, studying her split knuckles. “Are you okay?” His eyes met hers again.

She stared at him for a few seconds. “No,” she said quietly, glancing down, “I just keep… seeing her. Seeing me. The way she didn’t even blink when you were twisting like that and—and I just…” her hand squeezed his, those scabs on her knuckles straining, threatening to bleed again in the cold, dry air. A short, forced chuckle fell out of her. “So, does the invulnerability help you with that? Does your brain…?” The question trailed off. One of those things that started in lightheartedness and then collapsed in on itself as she realized she really didn’t know.

“…I’ve been getting nightmares,” Clark said quietly, and Lois’s head jerked up to look at him, “Between what I saw on the file, and what your dad showed me about Zero Day I…I’ve been getting them for a while. I’m sorry. I should have told you, but… I was scared. And I didn’t want to scare you. And I’m scared of how angry it makes me, knowing there are me’s like that out there. And I’m scared the more I think about it…” he trailed off. How many more times could he say the word ‘scared’ before it lost all meaning?

“So what you’re saying is… you’re not okay,” said Lois, raising her eyebrows at him.

Clark set his jaw nervously for a moment before huffing out a breath. “Yeah. I guess so. I mean… I’m not.”

A few long seconds passed between them before Lois smushed her cheek against his chest again. “How did you know her bracelet would short out the collar?”

“I didn’t,” said Clark, “I mean, I knew it shocked, but… I wasn’t sure. If it didn’t work, I hoped maybe it would distract her enough to…”

“You were counting on me?” Lois’s eyebrows raised.

“Kind of? Really, I was mostly counting on shorting the collar out, but I mean, you do actually have more formal hand-to-hand combat training than me. But also I was operating under a lot of electroshocks and a blow to the head at the time so…”

“Ugh, I thought it was my job to do the stupid stunts,” her voice was half muffled against his chest.

A short, soft chuckle escaped him. “Hey, I’m the one who keeps coming at people completely sheeted forward in a fight.”

“You do have to work on that!” she stuck her chin up at him defiantly. He just gave her an ‘I know’ smile, and she furrowed her brow, before pulling herself up, first kissing him on the jaw, then the mouth. He met her softly, feeling her fingers weave into his hair as the kiss deepened, feeling those fingers tense, almost pulling, almost. A little flare of need in the way her mouth pressed against his, that little grip of ‘mine.’

My Clark.

He held her closer to him as well, arms cradling and carefully tightening around her, trying to push out all the memory of the pain of electrical shocks and impact of weaponry and punches and kryptonite from the day, trying to replace it with the sensation of her body pressed against his. Replace the blunt, heavy pain with the weight of her in his arms, replace the sharpness and suffocation of kryptonite with her warmth. He could still kind of feel those hits from the fight, in the way you could still feel the sensation of the ocean after throwing yourself bodily into the waves for hours. He knew he and Jimmy would have to sit her down and talk to her about the Kryptonite at the League headquarters, but it would at least be easier with Jimmy backing him up… or maybe they would both team up on him with ‘Seriously, Clark, that was insane and you nearly died, you can’t keep doing stuff like that’ which was… also fair. He didn’t need to worry about that for now, though. Now was just softness, and super-hearing picking up her heartbeat, the rhythm of it against his own chest, and the sky tinging lilac and periwinkle, and—did she just shiver again? Her lips broke from his. “You can work on it later, though…” she murmured.

“What do you think…?” said Clark, as she leaned her head on his shoulder, the exhaustion of the day soaking in, “Takeout and that period piece we’ve been meaning to see that you know neither of us is going to stay awake for?”

“Mm…” Lois looked off, “Maybe we should check on Jimmy. I mean… he… ”

“Lost his drone, which got turned into robot god by evil you, and then got sent to another dimension,” said Clark, talking through the events and realizing there was no way you could summarize them without sounding insane.

“Yeah…” said Lois.

“I texted him, but he hasn’t really gotten back to me for a couple hours now,” Clark shrugged.

“…he’s not making another Scoops already, is he?” Lois arched an eyebrow.

“I dunno,” Clark shrugged.

Lois stared at him for a few seconds before giving him another pecking kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get you inside, Smallville.”

———

“It’s with an ‘A?’” Jimmy was staring at the side of the decaf chestnut mocha where Jalana’s name was scribbled, “I thought it was spelled with an ‘E.’ Like jalapeño. The ‘A’ makes you think it should be pronounced ‘Jalahna.’”

“Still better than Jimberly,” said Jalana, taking the cup from him.

Jimmy gasped. “Who told you?!”

She just gave him a lopsided smile and he said, “Right, duh,” as he grabbed his own cinnamon cayenne hot cocoa order from the counter. They stepped out from the coffee shop into a cold night on Metropolis’s streets. Jimmy was staring up at the sky, Metropolis’s light pollution and the clouds of a winter sky obscuring the stars.

“…thinking about Scoops?” Jalana stepped next to him.

“Yeah…” Jimmy said quietly. He looked at his cup for a minute. “I saw.. a lot of different Amazos looking through the League computer. But uh… jeez, if you guys were worried about Clark turning evil…”

“But this Amazo was made by you, not Ivo,” said Jalana, as they both started walking down the street.

“I know, but I’m not anywhere near Ivo’s level, heck I was literally just using hardware he made… but I hope… I hope the fact that it was me makes a difference for him,” Jimmy rolled the grip of his fingers on his cup before taking a long sip, sugar and chocolate and spice and warmth going right to his heart and brain. His breath fogged out of him.

“We are going to be monitoring the situation,” said Jalana, “We don’t want to do anything to provoke the Spider Lady or the Android, but obviously introducing such a powerful entity to an already unstable universe warrants observation.”

“Think some of those reports can find their way into Flamebird?” Jimmy quirked an eyebrow.

“If I hear anything about your baby, you’ll be the first to know,” said Jalana, elbowing him.

“Oh god that’s too weird to think about now,” said Jimmy.

“You did make it,” said Jalana.

“I made an orb…drone thing. Sure, the orb can be a baby, but I can’t really call an 8-foot-tall sentient parasite suit that now weirdly has my best friend’s voice coming out of it a ‘baby.'”

“Everyone says that when they become a father,” said Jalana, sagely.

“Literally no one says that,” said Jimmy.

Jalana just smirked and sipped her own drink.

“Think they can actually pull it off?” asked Jimmy, “Stabilizing their universe, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” said Jalana, “I mean, I’ve seen loads of Lois Lanes save their universes. Hell, I’m in the organization of ‘Lois Lanes who save the multiverse.’ But Earth 19-Y is pretty far gone. At the very least, it’ll keep them both busy for a while, which is good for the whole multiverse.” They took a turn into Centennial Park, the grass on either side of them was frosted and snowflakes were starting to fall, getting caught in the soft glow of the lampposts.

“So, any other universes where I’m a villain?” asked Jimmy, “Just… I figure we should cover our bases here.”

“A couple,” Jalana shrugged, “None for you to really worry about, though.” She paused, smiling a little. ”There’s one where we’re a giant turtle kaiju,”

“Really!?” Jimmy’s face lit up.

“But honestly, a lot of the time we’re more likely to be dead than villains. Olsens get killed off in a lot of universes,”

“Wow…” Jimmy stared off into the distance, “The multiverse is racist.”

“Jimmy, we aren’t black in every universe.”

Jimmy gave her a skeptical side-eye.

“I literally just told you there’s a universe where you’re a giant turt—You know what? Never mind,” Jalana sipped her mocha, “It’s one of the things you have to get used to, in the League, the concept of being dead in another universe, the hole you leave. You can’t really take it personally.”

“…maybe you guys should start taking it personally,” said Jimmy.

“What?” said Jalana.

“Well, the Spider Lady said that you guys were basically using her universe as a petri dish. And… from what I saw of your archives, even if you guys were stopping big inter-dimensional criminals, you still needed her universe to be horrible and miserable so it could act as a kind of… multiverse barometer for you to track the movement of inter-dimensional contraband. Her universe was messed up by stuff that was well beyond her control, and you guys didn’t do anything to un-mess it, even though you definitely had the means. Is that right?”

Jalana looked stunned. “I mean I don’t decide the policy—“

“Jalana…”

“…yeah,” said Jalana after a few seconds, “You’re right. We didn’t.”

“How many universes were made better by having all their nastiness dumped into hers?”

“A lot…” said Jalana, and then, “Enough,” but her mouth pulled into a grimace. “Look, it wasn’t that easy. How are you supposed to tell the people from the Hell-Worm universe, ‘Oh hey, I know you’re all celebrating the fact that you no longer have Hell-Worms, but uh-oh, it turns out your Hell-Worms were just beamed to a different universe by a bad guy and we have to put them back now?’ So you… you don’t take it personally.” She was wincing at her own words.

“That doesn’t stop the people in their own universes from taking it personally,” said Jimmy.

“No.. it doesn’t,” said Jalana.

“…do you think it’s going to be like that for us?” Jimmy’s voice went oddly level.

“What?” Said Jalana.

“I mean, me, and Clark, and Lois,” said Jimmy, “There’s still so much we don’t know about what Clark can do, and I know it scares him. But he wants to help, and he’s going to do more, and more. The problems are going to get bigger. The world is going to get bigger. We already have to tell him he can’t do everything just in this city for his own sake, but what if we become like the League? Letting whole universes suffer for what we think is the greater good? Destroying things for what they could become, rather than just seeing them for what they are?”

Jalana weighed his words for a few seconds. “I think… as long as you do worry about that, you don’t have to worry about it, do you know what I mean? When you stop worrying about it…that’s when you should be worried.”

“Probably going to have to come up with a better system than that,” said Jimmy, “I mean we could worry about it while still doing it, is the thing.”

“Yeah,” said Jalana, sipping her drink, “…it should probably be a bigger red flag for me that one of your big fears for your universe is ending up like us, huh?”

“I mean, yeah, you had all that ‘Evil Superman’ footage, but end of the day, for our Clark, you guys shot first.”

“Mm,” Jalana just sullenly sipped at her drink again.

“Well you didn’t,” Jimmy corrected himself, “Are you still going to stick with the League? That’s twice, or like, five times you’ve helped us now. Are you going to get like, interdimensional-court-martialed?

“Lanes need Olsens,” Jalana shrugged, “If there’s one consistent thing I’ve seen for Jimmies and Jalanas and Jaimes and Gemmas and Yakovs across the multiverse, it’s that, at our best, we keep our friends grounded. We remind the world of what really matters. Hopefully what happened with the Spider Lady will be a wake-up call, but if it isn’t…” she stirred the ice in her drink, “Either way, I have work to do with the League. Speaking of which,” she held her hand out expectantly.

“What?” Jimmy said innocently.

“Flamebird to Flamebird, don’t bullshit me,” said Jalana flatly, “I want to be able to write down that you were compliant in the report.”

Jimmy sighed, “Fine,” he said, fishing the Spider Lady’s inter-dimensional burn hole projector out of his jacket pocket and handing it over, “You don’t know if I was actually going to use it.”

“Sure I do,” said Jalana, pocketing it.

“…Is Yakov the turtle kaiju Jimmy?” Jimmy asked after a few seconds.

“No, Yakov Olsenovich is a ballerino.”

“I'm a ballerino!?”

——

It was a miracle Earth 19-Y was still holding together. Literally. To its credit, the disastrous warping of its magnetic field lent itself to beautiful auroras glittering across a furious dark red sky, but also resulted in phenomena could only be described as ‘mass migratory bird suicides’ and ‘lightning that goes the wrong way,’ among others. The constant rain of debris burning up in its atmosphere made every night a dread-filled spectacular meteor shower, which was its own strange consolation prize for stars that were no longer visible.

A pale blue portal opened several hundred feet above a troubled ocean, and Amazo hovered out. The Android was no longer holding the Spider Lady by her jacket like a scruffed kitten, but rather carrying her bridal style as she kept her arms furiously folded across her chest and simmered in its arms. Amazo’s blank orange eyes surveyed its surroundings. It saw churning seas that had all but devoured every soft edge of a beach and now snapped and battered violently at crumbling cliffs at every shoreline. It saw the distant fires of rockets and anti-missile defense systems blinking and blooming against dark horizons.

“…it’s best not to stay in the open like this too long,” said the Spider Lady, looking at the seething, spraying waters below them. She squinted into the distance and made out a sad scribble of a skyline. “There,” she pointed, “Take us over there.” Amazo glanced down as she took in a breath as if steeling herself.

“Why there, Miss Lane?” Amazo tilted its head.

“It’s home,” the Spider Lady’s voice was barely audible over the roar of waves below.

Amazo seemed to process her words for a second, before taking off in that direction. She tightened in the android’s arms in the ensuing blast of wind and spray of water, tucking her chin against her collarbone and squeezing her eyes shut. In a sense she had succeeded, she had gotten Amazo, brought the Android back to her world, but she was still coming back to a world without her Jimmy. The world she had left to save would now be her prison, and the weapon she had sought to save it with, her warden. She lifted her chin to glare up at Amazo, who was staring blankly ahead as it flew. Stupid robot, she thought darkly.

The Metropolis of her world was not the clean art deco lines and gleaming elevated trains of the Metropolis of Earth 12-M, but a twisted and burned shadow of it. Even the great ringed celestial sphere sculpture topping the Daily Planet building was a warped and crumpled crescent, like something had taken a bite out of it. Amazo chose that as the landmark to touch down on.

Amazo had barely assumed a stable standing position on the Daily Planet’s roof when the Spider Lady furiously flapped an arm in the Android’s face, her legs trying to flail out of its grip. “Down. Put me down.”

The android all but dropped her and she stumbled a few steps away from him to regain her balance. Her head was still pounding and her body ached all over from the beating that other Lois had given her, and actually standing on her own two feet gave her a chance to finally assess the damage that had been done. Her head was swimming from equal parts exhaustion, not eating, and the welts and bruises she could feel making their presence known as the adrenaline of everything faded. The Spider Lady swept her hands down the front of her dress with distaste before looking around, her shoulders visibly slumping. “Shithole, sweet shithole,” she said, softly, looking around the ruined Metropolis.

Amazo was silent behind her, a golden sentinel, what should have been her ultimate weapon now turned to… she didn’t know what. A hero, if all the morons one world back could be believed, but she knew better than that. Across so many worlds, Amazo, too, was a force of fear and destruction. It would be safer as a weapon. Sentience? The ability to make its own choices? No, she couldn’t trust that at all. She put her hands on her hips and puffed out a breath.

“All right, Golden Boy,” she said, “Let’s get one thing straight: Without me you’d still be a glorified camera orb floating around in the happy-go-lucky rom-com ‘Oh no, killing is bad’ universe. So I expect to be treated with a little respect if we’re both going to be stuck here.”

“I do not see how showing you disrespect would benefit the current situation,” said Amazo.

“Ugh, how much of that Clark did you absorb?”

“I do not absorb, I duplicate. Though, I can understand the confusion, seeing as the exterior of this chassis was previously the Parasite of Earth 12-M.”

The Spider Lady dragged a hand down her face with barely contained rage. Amazo looked out towards the horizon.

“I was made to save this universe,” said Amazo, like it hadn’t been saying that this whole damn time, “I anticipated dire conditions, but it is clear there are multiple crises happening both independently and interdependently.”

“What, were you thinking you’d just… take care of it all in one go? Fly around the world really fast? Turn back time? No, it doesn’t work like that.. this world is broken forwards and backwards.”

“I see…” Amazo said slowly.

“Where do you want to start?” said the Spider Lady, “The Marianas trench fish man invasion? The giant living metal engine city that’s grown over the smoking crater that used to be L.A. County? That one psychic who’s possessed the entire British Isles and will likely kill everyone if he has an aneurysm which could happen in the next few hours? The Hell-Worms? Take your pick. You can pretty much chuck a rock anywhere and there’s something to do.”

“What is causing the disruption in this earth’s magnetic field?” Amazo asked after a few seconds, looking up.

“Oh, that?” The Spider Lady chewed her thumbnail, “That was a failed doomsday device from some other dimension from a few years ago. It’s still stuck in our core. Apparently it didn’t work on our earth because it was meant for another planet and…” she flapped a hand, “Iiii don’t think you should start with that. You only have the Kryptonian’s powers. And you’d have to go to the planet’s core and like… get it spinning again? Jimmy knew more about it than me…” she trailed off quietly, then suddenly perked up, “Oh you know what? I’m pretty sure that lava monster is still attacking Iceland. Actually, we probably don’t have an Iceland any more but the lava monster’s definitely still there. Go beat that thing up, get its powers, and then you can go to the earth’s core.”

“An adequate strategy.” Amazo mused, floating off the ground slightly, “Thank you, Miss Lane.”

“Psh. You would have figured it out on your own, probably,” the Spider Lady shrugged.

“It is my understanding that many universes have collapsed in the absence of their respective Lois Lanes,” said Amazo, solemnly, “Do not underestimate your importance to this one.”

A blush crept up the Spider Lady’s cheeks—or maybe it was just all the broken blood vessels from all the punches. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Eh—” the Spider Lady’s breath caught in her throat for a second before she shook her head and then barked, “D-didn’t I tell you to go beat up that lava monster!? What are you doing floating there, for!? Hop to it, Golden Boy!”

Amazo gave her a single, acquiescent nod that send another flush of heat up the back of her neck, then took off, leaving the Spider Lady on the roof of the ruined Daily Planet. “Stupid robot…” she muttered under her breath, fidgeting with her hair.

#My adventures with Superman #MAWS fanfic #clois #DC

10 notes · View notes